The Apartment
by basriel
Summary: Harry is evicted from his own apartment, and the first person he turns to for aid is none other than Hermione Granger. Of course, immediate tension arises between the two. Will they both succumb to it? Or will they simple sit there awkwardly? Only 7 Chaps
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter I: The Apartment**

In a pleasant little flat in London, a sound akin to that of an alley cat in heat with laryngitis woke up several neighbors as Hermione Granger took out her frustration on her poor, innocent pillow.

It wasn't her career. Oh no, that was fine. It was just her social life, for one, that sucked majorly. After a rather enjoyable little dream involving a handsome man and a date at an Italian bistro, her wish to find a guy who wouldn't be terrified of her house-elf obsession had been renewed.

But of course she didn't have time to mope, she told herself. In a mumbling frenzy that could potentially land her a spot in Azkaban, she threw on some clothes, and snatched up her overstuffed purse. With that, she bustled off to work.

Honestly, she just wanted someone to talk to right now, she thought to herself as she bustled along the London streets after another long day. Not that she would find someone like that in the Gryffon Café. It was the gathering place for the bookworms and her usual spot after work, thanks to working too hard and taking a strong liking to caffeine. She had been going there every day for the past two years; ever since she had started the National S.P.E.W. Federation during the summer after the defeat of Voldemort. To Harry and Ron, her federation was simply titled "_spew_." Surprisingly, it had been going quite well; she had already freed thirty elves from households similar to the Malfoy's; not a bad feat, if she did say so herself.

She bustled into the café, scattering dead leaves that had gathered inside from the day's visitors, plopped down in her usual spot, and yanked out _Hogwarts: A History X,_ featuring Harry and all his magical conquests. She flipped to a particular page involving her…and Harry. It was strange; she never really knew how much she missed him, until she read this book. She almost felt like she was communicating with her old best friend.

She pulled her dark red sweater closer around her shoulders as a sudden gust of late fall air rushed in through the door, signaling the arrival of yet another frequenter of the Gryffon café. She turned to see if it was that mad old lady that always wanted to talk to her about hair supplies (she always wondered if she was trying to tell Hermione she wanted to do her hair), but thankfully, it was only a handsome young man in his mid twenties with light brown hair and electric blue eyes. Fighting a blush, she gave the newcomer a half smile, and then turned back to her book, and more importantly, Harry's face in the picture. His awkward smile seemed to say, "I really am embarrassed to be here…" She giggled, and was about to take another sip of her Irish breakfast tea, when all of a sudden-

"Hermione Granger? Is that you? I haven't seen you in years!" Her head snapped up to see the same young man grinning incredulously at her.

"Um… That's me…" She laughed nervously.

"Oliver, remember? Gryffindor Quidditch captain!"

She stared at him blankly for a moment, when realization suddenly struck her. Oliver Wood! How could she _possibly _have forgotten? She had been hanging out with those elves for far too long.

"Oliver! Yes, I do remember you…sorry…um…I'm a bit disoriented right now…" she stood up to grab his hand in a shake, when her bag fell onto the floor with a loud _thump_, and her many papers, books, quills, breakfast bars toppled onto the floor. If it was possible, her hair got even more frizzed with her embarrassment as she dove like a professional scuba diver to snatch up her granola-infested mess. But it was futile, Oliver's larger and rougher, more calloused hands pushed her smaller, softer ones away and he gathered the items himself.

"Yes…you are disoriented…what's with the breakfast bars?" he teased.

Her face reddened to a deeper shade of crimson. "Oh…um…well, I usually don't have time to eat breakfast at home…and these are filling, and delicious…so…um…well…" she trailed off, feeling dumber than Ron hungover. Of course the minute she saw a person (more importantly a gorgeous guy) she had known since her first year of Hogwarts, she had to become her thirteen-year-old self again. Why couldn't Hogwarts have also taught ways to deal with boys, on top of charms and all? Sometimes she needed those skills more than she needed magic. She leaned forward to hide her face, using her mess as an excuse, when Oliver's warm hand pushed hers away again.

"I'll get it, it's my fault everything spilled anyway." He bent over and within seconds her books and breakfast bars were neatly stacked on the table next to her tea and rumpled gray coat. She blushed even more.

"Thank you…. I'm so clumsy when I'm tired." She stammered, absentmindedly fixing her sweater and staring down at the floor.

"It's no problem at all, it's not every day I get to pick up a pretty girl's breakfast bars!" he joked. "I'll be right back, I need some coffee and I need it now." He walked over to the counter, leaving a tomato red Hermione at her table.

Feeling very un-Hermione, she blinked in a brainless hot-guy induced stupor. He had called her pretty? Even if he had been joking, people rarely ever called her pretty; except for her parents…of course. Of course, Ron had made futile attempts to tell her she was pretty…but…that was Ron. She had enjoyed dating him… but it still didn't quite seem right. She could never explain it to herself. Apparently, Ron felt the same way. They had dated for months without feeling awkward. Yet, all of a sudden one day, it became just so. Hermione had a feeling it did at one of the parties that oen of her former Gryffondore school-mates threw about a year ago. Ron, after getting very drunk indeed, accidentally walked into the girl's bathroom and opened the first stall he saw to none other than Luna Lovegood. Ron had already started unbottoning his pants, he had such a 'bathroom emergnecy.' Although the minute Luna saw him for al his glory, Ron burst out of the bathroom face red as the Gryffondore sweater he was wearing. From there, Ron and Hermione slowly started growing apart as boyfriend and girlfriend. So about a year ago, now, although they were still good friends, they realized they were no longer interested in each other. Ron immediately went chasing after Luna...while Hermione was left in the breeze. So here she was now, boyfriend-less, sitting on a plush chair in a café, staring after the best looking man she'd seen in a very long time, in a half-witted daze at being called pretty.

Oliver's return brought her out of her reverie, and she blushed yet again.

"So, how about you and your breakfast bars come over and sit with a lonely guy like me?" Oliver grinned and winked. Hermione scowled.

"My breakfast bars have _better_ things to do than be insulted by you!" She folded her arms across her chest. Oliver laughed.

"But I'm willing to bet you don't at five in the evening." He pulled out a chair at a smaller table for two in the corner and motioned to the chair. "Well?"

"Oh, I, well… okay, but just this once!" She warned, plopping down in the chair. Oliver grinned again and pushed her chair in, and then took his seat across from her. As he gazed into her eyes in a very non-friendly and very hot-date-in-Italian-bistro way, Hermione was once again very aware of the high temperature of the room. She tugged at a brown curl, looking down at the table and pretending to examine the grain.

"So, Hermione, what have you been up to all these years? Ruling the muggle world? Heading the Ministry of Magic?" He gulped down his coffee and Hermione watched where his collared shirt was not fully buttoned up, hinting at his chest. Goodness, now she was just acting silly like Lavender or someone. She blushed more and shook her head, her curls swishing in front of her face.

"Actually… I've been working on a project regarding the freedom of House Elves…It's called S.P.E.W." She looked down again, resigned to what she knew would happen: he'd think it was weird, banter on with her for a few minutes more, and then make up some obviously fake excuse and leave in a hurry, where she'd sit and miss Harry and Ron.

Rather anticlimactically, Oliver finished off his coffee.

"That's… really, well, _interesting._ I'm sure your work is important." He said slowly. Hermione gawked.

"Y-you really mean it?"

"Uh, sure." He picked at his croissant. Hermione cackled, feeling a bit like what she imagined being high would feel like. He wasn't terrified of her house elves, _or _her hair! Wonders never ceased.

"You're practically the only person that thinks so! Harry always teases me about it, and nowadays Ron just avoids the subject completely! …Er, sorry about that little outburst." She sank deeper in her chair in embarrassment. Oliver grinned through a mouthful of croissant. There was an awkward silence in which Oliver's knee brushed Hermione's.

"So, um, what are you doing now?"

"Well, I just got into the Chudley Cannons. But the pay isn't good, so until it is, I'll be working as a Quidditch journalist for the Daily Prophet on the side."

Hermione felt a different kind of heat spreading through her body this time. Forcing herself to swallow her angry words about the newspaper that had caused Harry so much shame over the years, she smiled and forced out an "Oh, that's simply incredible!" and Oliver grinned again. Her heart just melted at that stupid boyish grin. It sort of… well, it reminded her of Harry, come to think of it. Boyish, slightly embarrassed… Crap, he was talking! What was he saying?

"So, do you want to tell me more about this 'S.P.E.W.' at the Leaky Cauldron on Saturday evening?" He asked casually with more grace than she could have mustered doing the same action even if she'd been tranquilized.

Hermione thought her heart would explode. Someone had asked her out on a date-incredible! And, it wasn't just because she might've looked pretty, it was actually for her work, and life. He thought she had a life! It was incredible! Dreamy happiness spread across her face for so long, Oliver actually had to call her name out for her to snap back to reality. She reddened.

"Yes, sure. And you can tell me more about-" she inhaled at what she was about to say, bracing herself for what she considered blasphemy: "_the prophet._"

Hermione just couldn't believe herself. She was going to have to be interested in this stupid Newspaper of theirs.

"Cool. See you 'round 8:00. That's when I get off work...I'm just on my break now. So, I'll see you then." For one last time, he grinned brightly at her, and picked up his briefcase, and strolled out into the crisp, autumn evening. Hermione was in shock. Eight o' clock? _Eight o' clock?_ What did he think this was, a sex date? No, it was not. It was a _first date. __**First date!**_Yet…she couldn't just look like she would at day time. She pulled out her make-up mirror, and gazed at her very frizzy hair. She shook her head in annoyance. Why did her hair have to tell her feelings? Every time she got embarrassed, or frustrated in any way, her hair got frizzy. The only way that it would stay curly under the masses of gel she put on each morning, was to stay calm. Usually, it worked…sort of. Even the magical gel she used didn't even calm it. She had finally decided that her hair let her know what she was feeling…like Harry's scar let them all know what Voldemort's feelings were…only hers were much more personal.

So. Date. Tomorrow night. With a soon-to-be Quidditch star.

What on earth was she going to do about that hair?!


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter II: Harry Arrives**

Hermione nervously tapped her foot on the sidewalk outside of the Leaky Cauldron, darting glances from side to side. She had finally gotten her hair to do one of those coils, and it shone in the light from the streetlamps. Her cinnamon colored dress and matching wrap were pressed and pristine and to any muggle passerby she looked very stylish and modern, but Hermione felt like a big spice cabinet. She tugged on her dress which she thought was much too short.

"Well, aren't you a sight for sore eyes!" Hermione looked up to see Oliver walking towards her, clad in his same black coat and a green scarf that matched his eyes…like Harry. Hermione blushed as Oliver walked up to her and stood in front of her, grinning the grin that made her heart melt.

"So, er, shall we go inside then?" Hermione moved towards the door but Oliver got there before her and held it open. "Oh, well, um, thanks!" She stammered, and walked into the Leaky Cauldron.

After paying for their stay, and an hour of chatting, and eating in between silences, they finally stood up to go. Before Hermione could stand up, Oliver had pulled out her chair for her, giving her a hand to help her stand up. As they strolled out into the chilly night air, a question popped into her head.

"How are you going to get home?"

"The question is, Hermione, how are _you_ going to get home?"

She reddened at his question. "Well…I was going to take the Knight Bus…" she said, pondering. She had made it clear to herself before she left that she would _not_ let Oliver take her home after dinner. Repeat: _not take her home_. She had seen romance movies before where the guy had taken the woman home after their first date; _Jerry McGuire_, anyone? Oliver chuckled, and put his arm around her shoulder. "Well, I thought I'd take you home," he whispered into her ear.

Her shoulder trembled in his grasp. She clenched her eyes shut in thought. Okay…maybe _Jerry McGuire_ was not as realistic as it seemed…she hoped. No, she could back down. She would take herself home. His grip tightened around her shoulder. Okay…maybe…she would let him take her home, but that's all that would happen.

"O-okay. How'll you take me home?"

His grip loosened again. "We'll fly home, with my broom."

Her eyes popped open in alarm. She looked over, and there it was. _A broom_. She never did like brooms, but, she couldn't just tell him she was dead afraid of them…she would have to just swallow her fear and go.

"Okay…shall we go?"

"Yeah, sure. Be sure to get on towards the tail of the broom."

Trembling, she mounted the broom, and gripped it tightly. She felt him get on in front of her. He turned around and grabbed her hands.

"Grab onto me, okay? It's 'safer' that way," he said light-heartedly. She couldn't see through the dark, but she knew that he was grinning at her again. She reached her arms out around his taut stomach, and clasped her hands in front of him.

"Don't worry. It's a firebolt. Though it's fast, it's smooth. So, unfortunately, don't look forward to a bumpy ride."

"Mm…good," she said frantically.

"Ready?" he called.

"…sure…" she gripped him tightly as a rush of air flew into her face.

----

They landed in front of her apartment house fifteen minutes later without any trouble-thankfully. He helped her to the door, and gazed at her intently. Hermione felt herself reddening, and she knew her hair was getting frizzier by the moment. She had to get inside A.S.A.P.

"Well, g'night," she said in a fake light-hearted voice to cover up her frantic behavior. She pulled out her keys, and started to drive them into the key hole, when she felt a light touch on her cheek, pulling her into Oliver's face…no…not his face…his lips. Her lips landed on top of his, and they stayed there. How long they stayed there, however, she didn't know. Suddenly, there was a loud crack, and Hermione was sharply pulled apart from Oliver, and shoved into her door. She glanced at Oliver in alarm, and found the back of a fairly tall man with messy black hair standing where Hermione once was with Oliver's lips still rolling along his scar. It was Harry. Her heart lifted up into the middle of her throat in joy. She couldn't believe it; Harry had finally come. Harry gave a cry of alarm.

"Hermione, your voice is deeper, do you have a cold?" Oliver said concernedly, pulling away from Harry. His eyes widened at the sight of his old Quidditch team mate. His face turned a crimson red at the thought of what he just did.

"Yeah, I thought this was Hermione's apartment…where is she?" Harry asked, trying to ignore his embarrassment.

Hermione uttered one of her famous squeals, and dashed up to Harry. He spun around to face a tearful Hermione with unusually frizzy hair. She sniffled, and threw herself around Harry, squeezing him very tightly, like she would never let him go again. He stood there, shocked, trembling, and lifted his arms around her back, returning the embrace.

Hermione thought she could never let him go; she was perfectly content where she was. For some reason, she found it even better than what she had just done with Oliver…surprising. Then, she remembered. She was clutching another man very tightly right in front of her date. She soon remembered what she _was_ doing with Oliver…her joy at seeing Harry had soon turned into irritation. She yanked away from him, with an angry face.

"Harry! You…"

Harry knew instantly that she was furious with him for not communicating nearly as often as he should have. It occurred to him that maybe he knew his bushy-haired friend a little too well.

"Hermione, I'm really sorry, I should've floo-"

"Can't you see that Oliver here has been…escorting me back here?" She cried shrilly.

Harry's eyes seemed to pop out of his sockets. Hermione dating Oliver Wood-his old team mate? He felt a flash of anger, then pity rushed through his body. He knew how she felt. The instant she got a moment alone with her date, and she's interrupted. Harry was reminded of his disastrous first (and last) date with Cho Chang. Ironically, it had been Hermione who had forced him to join her at the Three Broomsticks; he was now very thankful for Hermione for doing that.

"Sorry…I didn't know that…he was here…" he knew what he just said would start yet another argument.

"You probably would've known he was here, if you kept up with me!" she shouted shrilly. He knew this was coming, but he would not go down without a fight.

"Well…it's been hard, you know? I've been at auror training, which is even harder than our sixth year at school! It's consumed the majority of my time! I'm really sorry! But, you know, it's not like you've been communicating with me either!" Hermione turned a deep shade of red, and stomped up to him.

"You…" He knew he was winning the argument. When Hermione couldn't come up with a response, he was usually the winner. She exhaled, lifted her hand a bit…and slapped him across the face. He lost the argument. There was a little _ahem_ behind the two of them. Harry and Hermione snapped their heads in Oliver's direction.

"I think I'll go…now. Floo me when you can, Hermione," he said. He smiled, and leaned down, gave her a quick kiss, and casually walked down the stairs of the apartment.

"…So when did you start dating him?" he asked as casually as possible, but he wasn't able to stop the small crack in his voice.

"Oh…this was my first date," she said quietly. Harry lifted his eye-brows in surprise.

"You did all that…on your first date? Wow…"

She scowled at him. She decided to change the subject. "So, what are you doing here?"

"I got evicted," he said simply. "Landlord hadn't renewed the lease of the apartment house, so it cost everybody who lived there their apartments." Hermione's heart melted. She couldn't believe that she had hit him when he had just lost his apartment.

"…I'm sorry…" she said quietly. He gazed at her in surprise.

"For what?"

"Slapping you! Look, you even got a red mark from my hand!" She rubbed the place where she slapped him; he went scarlet. "And then you up and tell me that that you lost your apartment-haven't I a right to feel guilty?"

"Em…sure…" he stuttered. Hermione stepped back with a worried expression on her face, which soon switched to an expression of mild annoyance.

"So you're here to see if you can stay with me?" she asked offhandedly.

"Eh, yeah. Could I?"

"Certainly not. I thought you noticed long ago that I was a girl?" Harry flushed.

"Of course I did! But, I'm not going to invade Ron's privacy! He told me that Luna just moved in with him-I don't want to walk in on them…you know…" he finished, unsure of what he should say. Hermione's face returned to that deep shade of crimson she had worn when he had first arrived.

"Oh, so you don't want to walk in on them? And you think that living with _me_ would be any better?" She regretted what she said instantly, and the deep crimson turned to a sheepish pink.

"N-no! Not at all…it's just…I figured…well…the possibility of that…is…" he finished sadly. He knew he would never have a chance.

"S-so…you think…that there's no chance that _I_ would do anything?" She said, her voice reaching an unnaturally high pitch. "_I think not!"_ she said, flustered, and stood up on her tip-toes so that she was almost level with Harry's face…why was he so red? Did she do anything to make him angry? She leaned over so their noses were millimeters apart. "_Don't think that I might not do anything_," she said darkly…and her sheepishly pink face turned sheepishly magenta. Why was she saying all these things? She was obviously making Harry very uncomfortable…she just found it fun.

"W-well, if you do want to, you know, DO anything, we'll need to go inside." Harry joked after a few moments of awkward silence. Hermione rolled her eyes.

They went inside Hermione's apartment, and Harry was immediately greeted with a wave of nostalgia. Stacks of textbooks were in neat rows on shelves lining the walls.

"This brings me back to Hogwarts."

"Well, too bad, you're just in my apartment. Do you want some tea?" Hermione stepped into the tiny kitchenette, pulling out a kettle and two mugs. Harry nodded, and wandered over to her desk, where an open textbook lay. A half-written scroll sat next to it; Harry squinted to read what it said.

"Honey?"

"Huh- what?!"

"Do you want honey?"

"Oh…er, sure." Harry blushed, and then looked at the scroll again.

THE COMPLETE HISTORY OF PIGGLESNORTS

By Hermione Granger

Pigglesnorts are extremely precocious-

"Never mind," Harry muttered, turning away. He had no interest in reading a 20 foot long essay on Pugglesnouts or Pigglesnorts or…. Well whatever they were. He wandered back into the kitchen.

"Where's Crookshanks?"

Hermione was finishing up the tea and had just pulled out a box of biscuits.

"Oh, probably wandering around the neighborhood. Do you want some biscuits?"

"Yes please!" Harry said eagerly, moving in closer to examine the biscuits Hermione had just put out on the small table. Harry leant down to pick up a biscuit, when Hermione crossing her arms caught his eye. However, it was not her crossing her arms that caught his eye, it was Hermione…in a dress…that showed half of her chest. He froze, his face expressionless, except for the mild shock that was clearly etched along his face. He was unaware of the amounts of blood pumping into his head. Hermione frowned, worriedly. He had never done this before; why was he getting so red over a mere biscuit? It was ridiculous!

"…Harry? Are you okay?"

Harry heard a distant voice calling him…but, it was not important. Hermione looked down to where he was staring, and gasped in shock.

"_Harry!"_ she called loudly. No boy was to stare at her! Harry jerked his head to gaze at her face. "Are-you-okay-Harry?" she poked his arm cautiously.

"Hm? Yeah." He said breathlessly.

"Okay, well, take your tea and some biscuits. I'm going to go change out of these ridiculous clothes." She went into her room and closed the door quickly.

Now what? She rummaged through her pajama drawer, searching for something decent. Cow print pants… no. Pink lace slip that she had received as a joke present from Ginny last year? Certainly not. She frowned, pushing past a few pairs of old and unattractive gray sweat pants. She was pretty sure that those were Dudley's, and Harry snuck them into her trunk before leaving Hogwarts for the final time after the death of Voldemort. What in the name of Godric Gryffindor was one supposed to wear to sleep in, when one's best male friend was sleeping over? She rolled her eyes, and pulled out the cow print pants. Odd as they might be, they were a better choice than those sweatpants… or that see-through pink lacy slip. What if…she blushed, pulling her hair out of its clip. She forced that thought to the back of her mind, and shrugged into a light blue shirt. She checked herself in the mirror. Well, she definitely looked like a fashion disaster, but Harry probably wouldn't notice anyway.

She left her room, tucking her hair behind her ears self-consciously.

Harry was munching on a biscuit, extremely involved in an essay she had written for Muggle Sciences on the Physics of Quidditch. She could see his jaw tensing as he chewed, his brow furrowed in thought.

"Harry?"

He looked up and smirked. "Nice pants."

She blushed even more and smacked his shoulder. "Oh shut up. They're comfortable."

"Oh yes, and very sexy too. I'm sure _Olive _adores them." He teased. Hermione glared.

"He hasn't seen them yet!"

"Yet? So that means he _will _see them." Hermione noticed that his tone was significantly colder this time and she sighed.

"I don't know, Harry. It was a simple date."

"Who said it wasn't? Speaking of Quidditch, that essay that you wrote is very interesting."

"Thank you. And we weren't talking about Quidditch."

"We were talking about Oliver, who is a Quidditch player."

"True."

They both sighed at the same time, and laughed. "Well, Harry, I think it's time we both went to sleep. You can sleep on my bed for now, and I'll sleep on the couch-"

"No! I'll just sleep on the couch." He interrupted, hopping over the back of the couch and plopping down into the soft cushions. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Well you can't just sleep like that! I'll be right back; I'll get you a blanket and a pillow."

"I'll help." He followed her into her room and stood behind her as she searched her closet for an extra pillow and blanket. "Your room is very… Hermione-ish."

"Very descriptive, bright one." She teased, in search a pillow and a pink blanket. "Now be quiet, there should be some sleeping materials in here…" she trailed off, lost in her closet. Harry wandered around her room, and end up at her dresser. He pulled open her pajama drawer and searched through, until he spotted the frilly, pink night slip. He blushed, but maintained his composure enough to tease her about it.

"OH-HO-HO! Did you buy _this _just for Oliver?" He said, putting it in front of him as if he was trying to see how he looked with it. Hermione came out of the closet with the sleeping materials, yanked the slip out of his arm and shoved the blankets into his arms. "Be quiet! Ginny gave that to me as a joke! Now go sleep. I have to get up bright and early tomorrow, and I might wake you up by accident, too!"

"Yeah. But I'd like to see that on you sometime!" Hermione rolled her eyes. Harry trudged into the living room again, curling up on the couch with the pillow and blanket. The blanket and pillow smelled like Hermione's shampoo. He sighed, burying his face in the pillow. It was going to be a long couple of days, staying here.

---

Harry couldn't sleep. It was not because Hermione was in the other room, with those sexy cow-print pants; oh no, that was only the short end of the stick. It was also because Crookshanks had finally found his way home, and was quite content on sitting on Harry's neck, and scratching his face into a dirty, furry mess. Also, when Harry finally decided he could not put up with it any longer, Crookshanks leapt off his neck, and scampered away furtively. Now, Harry sat on Hermione's couch, fuming towards Crookshanks. He had almost always liked that cat…but for some reason, he was utterly annoying and obnoxious. Eventually, his anger got the best of him, and he stood up, and stomped around the apartment in search for the damn cat.

'Oh no…' thought Harry after he couldn't find Crookshanks anywhere, 'what if the cat's in…_her_ room…' He stood at the door of Hermione's room for what felt like hours trying to decide if he should dare go into a girl's room…but, he wrestled in his mind, a very voluptuous girl…who's not really a girl, anymore, but someone that he'd really like to-NO! He shouted to himself aloud.

He clamped a hand over his mouth terrified that he'd woken her up…but he didn't here anything on the other side of the door, so he dropped his hand from his mouth, and proceeded to bang his head at the thoughts of this girl he had grown up with. But when he saw blood on his hand after withdrawing his hand from his head, he decided yes, it was time to teach that stupid cat a lesson.

He silently opened the door, and tiptoed around her room, searching every crook and cranny-very careful to avoid her large double bed. Dread crept upon him when he realized that the cat had been hiding on Hermione's bed the whole time he'd been looking for her when he heard a very loud and smug purr. He growled, marched up to the foot of her bed, and reached for the cat. But before he could grab him, he scampered up on to her chest, with an even smugger purr etched into his voice. Careful not to shout in frustration, he climbed upon her bed, and crawled up to Crookshanks…and Hermione.

"Gotcha," Harry said a little louder than he meant to, scaring Crookshanks away…and waking Hermione up.

"GAAH!! BURGLAR!" She shot up, waving her arms around wildly. She whipped out her wand, and silently cast a spell which knocked him across her chest. Harry could feel his face growing hotter and hotter by the second. Once again, Harry could not tell how long he laid across Hermione's chest. Eventually, the excess blood flowed out of his head as he enjoyed the pleasure of lying across a grown woman's chest. A scent of honeysuckle soap, and wizard-stain-removal wafted up through his nostrils. He let out a sigh of quiet joy.

"WHO THE BLOODY HELL ARE YOU?" shouted Hermione, snapping Harry out of his trance. Harry looked up to Hermione's face right as she began to lift her wand up again.

"NO!" shouted Harry, as his auror instincts took over. He whipped out his wand, and silently cast his famed _expelliarmus _charm. Hermione's wand flew across the room. An uncomfortably long silence settled among them. "Harry?" Hermione said so quietly, Harry would not've been able to hear it without the silence. Then,

"HARRY! WHY THE _HELL_ WERE YOU LAYING ON MY CHEST?" she screamed.

"Um…well, there was the cat…and he scratched me, and then…well, I had enough…and then, I chased him in room, and he jumped up on bed…and…and um…he jumped, I fell…your…er…chest..." he finished with a smile.

Hermione rolled her eyes. "Oh, Harry." She sighed and grabbed her pillow. Harry blushed and rubbed the back of his neck nervously. Hermione smiled…she whacked him across the face with the pillow.

"Ow!! I'm sorry!!!" Harry fell backwards and off her bed, while Hermione grinned evilly. Harry crawled over to the edge of Hermione's bed, and got to his knees, with his head on her arm.

"I'm serious! I'm sorry!" Hermione knelt down so her face was nearly an inch from his.

"Well," she said, pulling some unknown feathers from his hair, "maybe if you had been careful not to let the couch's feathers into your hair, this would've never happened!"

Harry knelt in closer. "That's an excuse…those feathers are from your pillow." He said, kneeling in closer. "No…" she said, bringing them even closer. Harry reached up and stroked Hermione's cheek, as Hermione inched closer.

Wait a minute…she had a date with Oliver…which was wonderful. Realizing this, she pulled away, and the blood rushed into her face. Harry sat, kneeling, a stunned expression on his face. Hermione shook her head, tears welling up in her eyes from embarrassment.

"Good-night, Harry…" she muttered.

"Yeah…g'night…" he responded quietly. With that, he stood up, crept out of her room, and shut the door, leaving a stock still Hermione on top of her bed.


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter III: Drunken Kisses**

Harry stood in front of the bathroom mirror, combing out his wet black hair. The mirror was partially covered in condensation. Hermione poked her head in.

"I'm off to work, 'Arry." She said, munching on a buttered piece of toast. Her hair was pulled into a messy bun with light brown tendrils framing her face. Her glasses had obviously just been cleaned and they twinkled in the harsh fluorescent bathroom lighting.

"Oh, ok then. I was just about to leave, too." He waved, finishing up with his hair-a hopeless endeavor from the start-and wandered off into the kitchenette for some tea and toast. Hermione snapped her bag shut. She had a long overcoat on that reached the middle of her calves and showed off a pair of glossy black heels—far too impractical for Hermione. Harry crammed a piece of toast in his mouth.

"Whafs wif da heews?"

"Harry, how many times have I _told _you, talk _after _you sw-"

"Ha, sorry. What's with the heels?" He coughed, banging his chest. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"I have a date with Oliver tonight, and I thought it would be a little more sensible to just go from work." She slung her bag over her shoulder. Harry noticed the soft pearl earrings in her ears, and twitched in annoyance.

"Wow, pearls too, 'Mione? Damn. So what am I to do for dinner?" He said sarcastically as he shoveled another piece of toast in his mouth and Hermione rolled her eyes again, but didn't seem to notice his sarcastic tone; she was only paying attention to Harry's manners.

"There are plenty of nice restaurants in the area, Harry. Be _creative."_ And she left, slamming the door, leaving Harry alone in the silent apartment. As she left, Harry caught a glimpse of her bare legs below her trench coat.

"Oi, 'Mione! Nice legs!"

"Harry, you're so immature!" she called from behind the closed door.

---

He had that Hermione wrapped around his little finger. He remembered her as the little bushy haired girl who always hung around with Harry. But now…she was one of the most voluptuous girls he'd ever seen…who wasn't famous. He had always liked her, but he never _liked_ her-especially not now. He just wanted to experiment a little bit-see how she…was. Plus, he had 100 galleons in the bag if he did "get" her. He couldn't ask for a better bet: easy money and an easy little 'some'n-some'n' on the side.

He was excited about tonight's date, for he knew that tonight would be _the_ (he noticed it never took him long to get to there with a girl). Bet _won._ But as he looked at his watch, it turned out his date was in one hour! He stood up from his sensuous, leather couch, and walked towards his bathroom. As he did so, he caught a glimpse of himself in the hall mirror. He paused, and stroked his hair. No, he definitely didn't have to get ready. He looked good _all_ the time. He grinned into the mirror, and, with his hands formed in guns, pointed at the mirrors.

He glanced at his watch once again, and he still had about an hour until his date. He decided to go to the pub where their date was to take place ahead of time.

It was dark and smoky in the pub when Oliver arrived. The barmaid, who was a tall woman with wild red hair and murky blue eyes, was creating a drink. She was sure to show off her deep cleavage and bare shoulders. Oliver half-smiled and sat down at the bar.

"Just one beer, I have a date after this." The barmaid placed a bottle before him and leaned forward closer to him. She flipped her red hair over her shoulder, smiling sultrily at him.

---

Harry dug into his red plastic basket of chips, gazing around the muggle pub. He glanced over at the barmaid, and caught her eye. Ginny turned puce, and flipped her hair at the man sitting at the bar. Harry forced his rage down as he remembered breaking up with her the previous year. He thought everything was going incredibly smoothly with her, until he walked in on her cheating with some guy who apparated instantly after Harry shouted. Harry never found out who the man was, but the shouting argument between Ginny and himself lasted for hours. Eventually, he forgave her, in hopes that she would behave herself. Sadly, it wasn't even a week until he walked in on her with a different man again. Harry realized enough was enough. He hadn't spoken to her since. Hermione kept up with her a little bit, he knew, but he never really asked Hermione how she was; whenever he asked Ron about her, his ears went red, and he went silent. He gulped down his chocolate milk (yes, sometimes, he had childhood urges), staring closely at Ginny's "flirtee," when he realized that it was Oliver Wood. He blinked. It might have been a trick of the light-or rather lack thereof. But as he watched the man lean in closer to his ex-girlfriend, he was positive that it was he.

What about the date?

Harry stood up, abandoning his fries. His body was tired from a long day at work and so he moved slowly. He saw Oliver and Ginny get up and leave the pub area, and into its separate set of rooms in quite the hurry. Harry could only gawk. Not only was he shocked at what had become of Ginny, but what about Hermione? He was about to run after them…but then he realized it'd be better to just go find Hermione and tell her. Yes! He'd do just that, and then she'd understand that Oliver was an idiot, and he'd sweep her up into his arms and they'd ride off on his broom and into the sunset. He ran out of the pub, and down the wet streets of London. And then it occurred to him. Where was she? He stopped in front of a random pet store, and began pacing back and forth. If he was training to find people gone into hiding, why couldn't he simply find Hermione, who had, last time he checked, no need to disappear?

He tapped his trainer against the concrete. Out of the corner of his eye, he spotted a girl trying to tame a mass of bushy brown hair walking up the sidewalk across from him. Bingo. "Hermione!" he called, and she stopped in her tracks, desperately trying to flatten her hair upon her head. Harry ran over to her and began to explain to her what a git Oliver was…but he found that his tongue was the size of a hacky-sack. So all that came out was: "Olveris a gitand hedoen deserveu." It was like the first time he asked Cho out…why oh why?

"HARRY! Are you eating something again? Because if you are, I don't have time! I have a date in five minutes!"

Harry cleared his throat. "Hermione…I saw Oliver in the bar over there-" he nodded behind him at the bar. "-with Ginny. Yes. Apparently she's just some kind of…well…something not appropriate. Anyway, he doesn't deserve you! You have to dump him! He's cheating on you!" Harry finished, and Hermione stared at him dumbstruck, and then burst out laughing.

"Harry! That's funny! Oliver is a really honest and great guy! He wouldn't cheat on me-especially with Ginny!" Harry gaped at her with disbelief.

"I'm serious! Why would I tell you this otherwise?" He stomped his feet on the ground in frustration. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Have fun with that. I'm going now to have a wonderful date with Oliver, and then we're going back to my apartment-"

"WHAT!? Why?! What are you going to _do _there? And what about ME?!" He shook her shoulders.

"We're going to drink coffee, and continue to discuss intellectual matters. Unlike _you, _he actually uses his brain once in a while AND DOESN'T TALK WITH HIS MOUTH FULL!!" She screeched. They were beginning to attract attention from people walking by. Hermione sighed. "Look, it won't be anything too-well, it might be a bit-" She blushed and fidgeted with her purse. "Well, in any case, you'll be _fine. _You're a dashing young auror-trainee; I'm positive you can find a date. Now, if you'll excuse me…" And he stared after her as she tottered away into the pub on heels that were much too high for her. Harry scowled. If they had been together, he'd have told her to take those silly shoes off and wear what she wanted to. She didn't have to endure what obviously must have been painful, just for a date. He sighed and ran his hand through his messy black hair. His hand got stuck.

"Crud." He muttered, working to get it out. Hermione quickly disappeared in the mob of people in the pub.

Well, maybe he hadn't seen Oliver and Ginny after all. Maybe Oliver really was a nice guy that really liked Hermione. He'd been his coach, and then Harry had considered him to be a good guy.

He shoved his hands in his jacket pocket, and walked briskly with his head bent down towards the nearest pub. He'd just call up some old friends. He needn't worry about Hermione.

He entered the smoky pub-though they all were like that- and asked to use the phone. He randomly flipped through the pages of the phonebook, and the name "Weasley" caught his eye, and he searched to find Ron's number.

"AH-HA!" he said unnecessarily triumphantly, and several couples glanced over at him in question. He dropped the few muggle coins he had into the payment box, and dialed Ron's number. The phone rang for a few seconds and then there was an answer.

"He-" and then the phone crashed to the floor.

"Hello?" answered a familiar voice that wasn't Ron's. "Who's this-Ron! Stop!" the voice giggled. Harry frowned and turned pink. This was the first time he had talked to Ron since Luna moved in…and he believed he had just walked in on them over the phone.

"Uh-yeah! This is Harry-Harry Potter!" he said loudly so he could be heard over the ruckus on the other line. But all of a sudden, it stopped.

"Ron-shhh! Harry? Ron, it's Harry" whispered the voice.

"Yeah…is this Luna?" asked Harry.

"It is indeed!" she said in her usual dreamy voice.

"Luna!" Harry said, happily. "Yeah. I haven't a date, so I was wondering if Ron-and you too, Luna-would want to join me at this bar called-hold on," he said, and put down the receiver, and ran outside to see what the bar was called. He ran back in, and picked up the receiver again.

"Yeah, I was wondering if you wanted to come to the…'Knight's Templar Bar'?"

There was a pause on the other line, and then Luna spoke again. "We go there all the time! We'll be there sooner than you can say apparate-" and then the line went dead. Harry shrugged, and hung up the phone, and then there was a loud bang in one of the wash-rooms. No one else seemed to notice it, but he ran over to the washroom anyway. Before he even opened the male washroom's door, he walked smack into the chest of a very tall redhead. He lifted his head upwards, and was staring into the face of none other than Ron Weasley, his best school-mate at Hogwarts. A broad grin spread across his face, and Harry grinned back.

"Good t' see you, mate!" Harry said happily, and smacked his back.

"Great to see you, too!" Ron said returning the embrace.

"Hey, where's Luna?" Harry asked.

"Oh, she's just…washing up." Ron responded airily. "Anyway, we come here a lot, so I'll take you to our usual spot."

"Cool," Harry said absentmindedly, because he was looking around the bar. He felt like he'd stepped into some sort of knight's eating hall, or even Hogwarts; instead of electric lights, there were hundreds of candles all over the room, barely illuminating the rickety old wooden chairs and tables. But what the most bizarre thing about this bar was that every single waiter and waitress were garbed in medieval dresses, or mail and tunics.

"Here's the booth!" Ron said pointing at a booth with scratches and ink stains covering the table. He sat down, and pointed to the seat across from him, offering Harry to sit down, which he did with reluctance; Harry was quite used to old rickety chairs, or booths with seats so old, the stuffing came out; but he feared what would happen if he sat down on this chair. But before Harry could comment on anything, the waiter marched up.

"Good evening sire," the waiter said, pulling up his helmet's eye piece. "How doth this fine evening fair for thee?" Harry gawked at how ridiculous this pub was.

"Oh, hi 'Sir Joe'-" Ron said with an embarrassed sigh. "This is Harry Potter." Harry was glad he was in a muggle pub; that way, his very name didn't attract any attention. "Anyway, yes, Luna is in the bathroom. You know her and her endless bladder!" Ron said off-handedly, rubbing his forehead; apparently, this knight's act irritated him, also.

"Ah, thee seemst to be new to the Knights' Templar Bar. What wouldst thee two fair sires desire?" 'Sir Joe' the waiter/part-time knight asked.

"I'll have the usual, and I suppose Luna will, too." Ron finished with another embarrassed sigh.

"And what wouldst thee wish?" Sir Joe asked Harry, politely.

"Yeah, I'll have a…euh…lager?"

"Indeed. I'll return to serve thy demands soon. However, it will be a long while; there ist many people who desire the service of the noble!" And he strode away with nobility in each stride. Before Harry could ask Ron about this bizarre bar, Luna strutted up to the booth.

"Harry! Good to see you!" Luna exclaimed, joyfully, sat down next to Ron, and kissed him on the cheek. Harry caught a glitter of candlelight upon Ron and Luna's ring fingers.

"Wait…I thought you two were dating?" he stared closer at their ring fingers, and realized that they were wearing wedding bans. He raised his head to their faces, and broke into a broad grin. "When did you…"

"Last week," they said together. Harry frowned.

"Why didn't you tell me sooner?" Harry asked, mildly annoyed.

Ron and Luna exchanged why-didn't-you-tell-him faces, and then said in unison: "I forgot." Harry rolled his eyes and grinned.

"So…why are you in this completely bizarre place?" Ron asked Harry. "Were you that desperate to find a girl?"

"No! I got into an argument with Hermione, and I walked into the first bar I could see to cool off!" Ron and Luna exchanged grins.

"You're going out with Hermione, are you?" Ron asked with the same grin he had when Harry kissed Cho. Harry blushed.

"No! I got evicted, and I didn't want to bother you, Ron. Well…it was more because I didn't want to walk in on the two of you…" Ron and Luna blushed.

He was suddenly reminded of the source of the argument between him and Hermione. "Wait a minute-Ron, I really need to know about Ginny. What's with her? I saw her walking off with Oliver, even though he had a date with Hermione!"

Ron gaped at him in shock. Harry sighed, and explained the situation to the two. When he finished, Ron had a face that looked like he'd just eaten flobberworms and blast-ended skrewt dung. "Yeah…that's Ginny. She sort of gave up wizardry, and she lives among the muggles now …she's a barmaid-and apparently a very good one at that. I think it's a phase, though. This is her way of dealing with the fact that she got dumped by you," Ron finished, with a tinge of irritation in his voice. Ron had always wanted Harry to date his sister. "But I didn't know about Oliver…"

Harry gaped at him. "Well…do you ever talk to her?"

"Why, do you still have feelings for her?" Ron asked, this time with a hint of excitement to his voice.

"No! They wore off when I walked in on her-_twice!-_with two different men!" Harry said, defensively. What he said was true, but he didn't tell Ron how he sometimes wondered what his life would be like if he was still with her.

"Oh-that's right!" Luna said, airily. "You like _Hermione!_" Harry blushed.

"Listen you-" but he was cut off by Sir Joe plopping their drinks in front of him. "Oh! Hooray!" Harry said happily. He picked up the tankard, and started drinking deeply.

"Harry, it's on us tonight, so…well…I guess…drink up?" Ron said as Harry finished the rest of his tankard.

"Is there something wrong today?" Luna asked with her eyebrows raised.

"No. But…I dunno, just so much stress-oi! Sir Joe!" He stopped, and turned around.

"Dost thee wish something more?" asked the whimsical waiter.

"Yeah. Could I have another beer?" Sire Joe smiled, and went to the kitchens to bring him another lager. He returned in a much shorter time (some people had begun to file out of the bar), and placed the tankard in front of Harry.

"Cheers," Harry said lifting up his tankard.

---

Harry stumbled to Hermione's door, and collapsed upon it. "Iser Mione 'er? Oi! Iser Mione 'er?" Harry called rather loudly. "Ineed see her! Needsee er! Tellherrrr someshing!"

The door behind Harry opened. "Oi, whoever you are shut up!" Hermione's neighbor called. Harry turned around, and leaned on Hermione's door.

"Yeshwe-" Harry never completed what he was going to say because Hermione opened the door right then, and Harry fell through Hermione's doorway.

"Is that your boyfriend?" the man asked nodding at Harry.

"I'm sorry…no, just a friend," Hermione sniffled.

"Oh…well…he's drunk. So would you mind telling him to shut up?"

"What…drunk?" She stared down at Harry, and her eyes popped out of her socket.

"Harry! Where _have_ you been?" Harry pushed himself to his feet, and stumbled backwards. He looked over at Hermione and a smile spread across his face. "Hey…pretty girl," he said, and fell on her shoulders.

"Oh…my…thank you…" Hermione called to her neighbor. With that, she pulled Harry into her apartment, and shut her door.

"Harry! Are you ok?" she called. What was she going to do? She'd just discovered that Oliver had been cheating on her-with Ginny! She thought she'd finally met the perfect guy…but he was just a cheat.

A tear rolled down her face as she pulled an unconscious Harry to the couch. She reached it and gently let him onto it. Tears were streaming down her face as she pulled his shoes off. But Harry jerked awake when Hermione's tears fell upon his face.

Harry squinted as his vision came into focus. The first thing he saw was a very red, and frizzy Hermione. Had she been exercising? Because her face was wet, too…but, then again, sweat doesn't come from one's eyes. He frowned.

"You okay?" he asked. Hermione jumped, and desperately tried to wipe the tears from her face.

"You don't seem so drunk now!" She said in a fake cheerful voice.

"…Are ou cryin'?" Harry said, dazed. Hermione ignored him.

"Harry! Do you know what the time is? It's almost two am! I was sort of worried about you-I got here before you did-I was on a date!"

"Oh, calm down! I've got'n back later n' this, b'for!"

"Of course you have, Harry."

"'Ow was or date wif _Olive!_" Harry asked coldly.

"You were right, you know…" Hermione sniffed. Harry frowned. "How do you mean?"

"We were in the middle of our date, and we were having a really good time, when Ginny came up…she was putting herself all over him-it was disgusting. Then I remembered what you told me, and then I just told him I had to go…and here I've been…" she finished, and then started sobbing.

"Iss not worssit-trust me!" Harry pleaded. He sat up, and leaned into her. "Oliver's a git…if he chooses _Ginny_ over you, he's got shom issuesto sort out." Hermione looked up, and smiled.

"Harry…" Hermione gazed at Harry. There was something different about him…even when he was drunk…he was the most attractive person she'd ever met. She leaned in closer, and stopped. "Oliver's not here, 'Mione," and he leaned in the rest of the way, closing the distance between them.

Hermione had several first kisses with a boy before…and none of them were quite like this one. Their lips lolled together for what seemed like forever. Sparks seemed to go off in Harry's mind, and with each passing second, the more his heart melted. He had a subconscious crush on Hermione for as long as he could remember, but he didn't realize it until he broke up with Ginny. He would forever remember that day. He stumbled to Hermione's apartment door (she had moved to this one since then), sobbing. He felt like he couldn't go to Ron for comfort…that would have been too awkward. Yet she completely understood him-like with every other issue he had had. She made him stop sobbing over Ginny since that same day. Harry smiled at the memory, and Hermione pulled away.

Hermione tucked her hair behind her ears. "What were you smiling about, Harry?"

Harry's grin broadened. "Why'd you stop?"

Hermione reddened. It was really to get her hair out of her way, but she knew Harry would tease her. "To…to look at you," she said, stupidly.

"Very poetic, Shakespeare," Harry smirked.

"Well…you're better to look at than most people," Hermione scoffed.

"Yeah? Whatabout _Olive_?"

Hermione stiffened, and smiled. "Yes. Well…I think that was a phase."

"Yeah, for like two days!" Harry laughed. Hermione leaned in again.


	4. Chapter 4

**Chapter IV: The Wedding **

The warm gleam of the sun filtered through Hermione's flimsy curtains, shining uncomfortably through Harry's skewed glasses. Harry blinked through the glare and the fuzz tickling his chin. Despite his pounding headache, he struggled to open his eyes to a mass of bushy, brown hair. His face went scarlet, for what he felt like was the hundredth time in two days, as he shoved aside the hair, hoping that it was not the person he feared it was. He groaned as he realized that the person lying, curled up in a ball underneath him was, indeed, Hermione. Hermione sniveled, struggled to roll over onto her side, elbowing Harry on the nose. Scrunching his face in pain, he rolled, as carefully as he could, off of Hermione, and shuffled towards her kitchenette.

He rifled through her few cookbooks for a home potions reference book, and quickly found a rather large one entitled "Forget About Stoves!" Harry blinked at the pure stupidity of the title. He shrugged, and quickly flipped through the index for remedies for hangovers. He flipped to the easiest looking remedy, and was relieved to find that he needed very few ingredients. Within five minutes, he had a coffee pot boiling with the remedy.

Hermione groaned and sat up, scratching her armpit. She rubbed the sleep out of her eyes, and began walking to her room. She scrambled around in her dazed, awakening memory why she had been sleeping on the couch. As she began stripping off her dress, she wondered why she had been sleeping on it in the first place. She heard a grunt from across the room. She froze, and turned her head reluctantly towards the noise, and found herself being gawked at by an astonished Harry. Blushing, she quickly dropped her dress, and she was instantly wide awake when the memories of the previous night filled her head. In an attempt to make the situation less awkward, she spotted the pot and squealed, "what's that?" Harry cleared his throat, and responded, unable to keep his voice from cracking, "hangover remedy."

"…oh…" Hermione said quietly, and shuffled into her bed room. She groaned angrily as she threw on her cow-print pants, and S.P.E.W. sweatshirt.

"Get some 'a this, 'Mione. It works!" Harry called. Hermione, resisting the temptation to tell Harry 'of course it worked-it's magic,' timidly shuffled into her kitchenette, and squeaked "I wasn't drunk last night, remember?"

"…oh yeah…"

An awkward silence continued between them where Harry's eyes frequently dashed from her counter, the pot, and Hermione. After Harry had made his twentieth trip around the room, Hermione finally snapped "what?"

"Nothing!" Harry replied, hastily "It's just…"

"If it's about last night, it was nothing," she coldly replied. "I remember. We kissed, and you fell asleep in the middle of you sticking your tongue down my throat. I remained in a very firm grip in your arms underneath you. That's why I didn't leave-I was stuck." She leaned against the counter next to Harry.

"Well…first of all, I don't want you to think I'm an alcoholic. Second of all…it wasn't 'nothing'…was it?" For the first time, Hermione stared Harry in the eye, and was unable to control herself.

"Oh…heavens, yes!"

"Well…you sure were pretty last night…"

"Thank you," Hermione said, covering her mouth to hide her growing grin.

"Ha-ha, made you sm-" but he was unable to complete his sentence for Hermione smashed her lips into his. Hermione reached around his neck, drawing him closer. Just as Harry backed her into the stove, knocking the cauldron of "Happy Hangover Tonic" over so it splattered to the floor, a loud, female voice called from Hermione's entrance. They ignored the intrusion, however, even when the woman was able to clearly see the growing intensity of their embrace.

"Oi! Who's this, 'My-my?" the woman shouted into Hermione's ear. Hermione broke the embrace, and snapped her head in her direction, and they leapt apart.

"Penny?" Hermione gasped, catching her breath. The woman flapped her hands in excitement, squealing as she dashed forward to squeeze Hermione in a tight embrace. Hermione returned the embrace in frustration. When they pulled apart, Hermione couldn't help but ask "what are you doing, here?"

"Well don't you remember, Hermione? My wedding is in one week! Knowing you, I came here to remind you that you need to get something to wear to it!"

Realization dawned upon Hermione's face as she remembered she had completely forgotten about that particular chore. She knew she hated shopping…but this was ridiculous! She found out about this two weeks ago!

"Er…I have a dress," Hermione said awkwardly. Penny gaped at her, but a smile spread across her face when she spied Harry awkwardly cleaning the spilled potion.

"Who's he?" Hermione snapped her head to see who Penny was staring at. The blood drained from her face. Harry immediately knew she would be unable to answer, so he decided to speak for her.

"I'm just a friend. I got evicted from my apartment so…here I am," he said as calmly as possible. Penny rolled her eyes.

"What's your name?" Penny asked, slyly.

"Harry Potter," Penny seemed to recognize his name. "Oh, yes! Hermione's told me all about you, Henry. I think she's the hots for you. You should watch out…although, I'm sure you've found that out, already," Penny winked. Harry blushed.

"Well, let me show you my dress," Hermione said in a mock cheerful voice.

"Wait, 'My-my. Aren't you going to tell him who _I_ am?" Penny asked. Hermione turned to her with a pained expression on her face.

"Harry, this is Penelope Telemachus-soon to be Penelope McGuire. She's the daughter of my mother's sister and brother-in-law," Hermione finished quickly.

"You can call me Cousin Penny, though," Penny added, prissily.

"Okay, do you want to see my dress?" Hermione said in attempt to change the subject. Without waiting for a response, she bustled into her room, and soon returned with the dress she woke up in. Penny gawked at it.

"You think you're going to wear _that_ to _my_ wedding? It looks like you'd be ready to go clubbing and get laid!" She turned to Harry. "But maybe you already have. Besides, you wore that to the engagement party, remember? How long've you had that dress?"

The color quickly returned to Hermione's face. "Er…a year and a half…"

"I thought it looked a little out of fashion," she said as she pulled out a billfold from her purse. "Your mum and dad agreed with me, and they decided to lend you money to go buy something more…appropriate, since you don't really…live like normal people do," she said as she handed Hermione a small pile of bills. Hermione leafed through the money, counting it. When she finished, shock came upon her face.

"Three thousand pounds?! Where on earth would I spend this kind of money?"

"Oh, there are _plenty_ of places, Hermione. I went ahead and did some research for you. There are some lovely dresses at Gucci. Go there," Penny finished.

A look of dread came over Hermione's face. "Shopping?!" she squeaked. Harry sighed miserably, and sat down, knowing he had no part in this conversation. Penny looked sideways at Harry, her brown eyes narrowing mischievously. "Oh, one small detail…have you a _date_ for the reception yet?"

---

"Honestly! This is _absolutely _absurd!" Hermione stormed down the street in a huff, her frizzy hair bouncing with each stomp. Harry trotted behind her, short of breath.

"Well it's not so bad… Look on the bright side-"

"Don't make me hurt you!"

"…Fine."

They continued in silence until they reached Oxford Street. Harry was panting heavily as they entered Gucci, gripping the doorframe as they went in for support. Hermione stopped within two steps glancing hopelessly around the store. So many strange looking contraptions… "These can't _possibly_ be dresses-"

"As a matter of fact, they are!" A tall, thin, blonde man in a disturbingly purple suit popped out of a rack of dresses, the taffeta and tulle rustling. He looked very familiar, and for reasons Harry and Hermione couldn't quite identify, they automatically hated him. "…You don't do much shopping, do you?" The blonde man gazed down his aristocratic nose at Hermione witheringly. Hermione huffed. Harry came forward.

"Er… well, not really. You see, we're trying to find her a nice dress to wear to her cousin's wedding and were told to go here." He pushed his hair out of his eyes and away from his forehead. The blonde man was silent, staring at Harry. Harry waited a minute. "Okay, it's not THAT big of a deal-"

"Well, Potty, to a mudblood and her lover, perhaps not. But to someone of _my_ couture status and magnitude, it is. Where's _Weasel? _Did you dump him, Granger? Or perhaps _you_ did, Potty," the man said lazily. Harry and Hermione's jaws dropped at the same instant. Draco? In _Gucci?!_ "I suppose, seeing as I work here and am paid on commission, I will help you." At that, he turned on his slightly too high heel and strutted to a different rack of dresses, pushing through them and tossing them aside like potato sacks. "Too… green." Hermione and Harry could only stand and watch in horror as Draco produced the most hideous purple and vomit-colored ball gown, complete with black lacey trim and pink buttons. "Hm. I don't much like buttons." He tossed it aside and went back to the pile of dresses.

"Er… don't you need to know her… size… or anything?" Draco gazed at him with an expression of mild irritation.

"Well, Potty? You should know it," he snapped. Harry fumbled for a response.

"Er, well, eh…. " He laughed nervously, looking at Hermione.

"Well…you should know…_Pansy's…_dress…size," Hermione finished hopelessly. She never had a chance against Draco's snappy snide comments.

"Well, perhaps if I were still with her, I would," Draco finished lackadaisically. Hermione turned beet red.

"Oh…sorry…" Hermione muttered.

"It's okay. I'm gay. I don't care," He said haughtily, turning back to the dresses with a hand on his hip. Harry made a small froglike noise.

"G-gay." Draco nodded in his direction and pulled out what Harry could only describe as a "frilly pink thing."

"Try this. Now." He presented the dress to Hermione delicately. "And be careful. You are wearing _art._" He shoved her towards a dressing room that was bigger than Hermione's whole apartment. Harry thought he could hear Hermione muttering something about the impracticality of white décor. As soon as she disappeared, Draco turned to Harry, a new expression on his face. Was it… one of… _desire!?_ Harry leaned back, knocking over a shoe display. "Oh! Sorry! I didn't-"

"It's fine… they pay me to clean shoes up. Too bad they don't pay me to do _something else…_" He leaned forward, placing a feminine hand on Harry's hip. Harry could only gawk and pray that Hermione would be done with that horrible birthday cake of a dress soon. Draco grinned suggestively, and leaned back, pulling his hand away. He moved behind the frozen Harry, picking up the shoes. When he got back up, he smacked Harry's rear playfully. "Hot derriere-hard as a rock. Just how I like them." He strutted back to the dressing rooms where Hermione's distress had become audible.

"Stupid zippers!" She hissed, attempting to reach back. Draco flung open the door and turned her around, zipping her dress up in one fluid movement. Hermione reddened. Draco turned her around again to face him. He stepped back, crossing his arms. "Well, we'll leave it to Harry to decide," he said as he stepped aside. Harry's eyes widened at the sight the hideous dress of rosettes and bows upon the Pepto-Bismol pink bodice (which made her look twenty pounds heavier), and grimaced as it reminded him of the toad-like Dolores J. Umbridge, who, if thin enough, would've loved this dress.

Hermione didn't seem to notice his grimace, and waited for a verbal response. "Well? How is it?" Before Harry could think of a polite response, Draco interrupted.

"Can't you see that it's putting him in obvious pain, you twit? Although, I must say, it's very hot," he finished leaving an awkward silence between them.

"Er…anyway," Draco lifted up a second dress. "Here. This piece." Hermione reluctantly grabbed the dress, and skulked into her dressing room. The minute the click of the lock echoed in the dressing area, Draco gave Harry the eye that Harry remembered observing over the years from other girls.

A few uncomfortable minutes later, Hermione stepped awkwardly out of the dressing room with a strapless, lavender ankle length gown. Harry's jaw dropped.

"Remember fourth year, Potter? You had the exact same reaction; Mudblood and Potty-I always thought it was a better match than Mudblood and Weasel…or Potty and Weasel," Draco finished with a self satisfactory chuckle. "Anyway, I take it that Harry approves. But, because it's fall, you should have a shawl. I think a simple shawl to match your dress would be nice. Nothing special on it, because yours is very plain-" Draco glanced around the shop to make sure no one was looking, snapped his fingers, and instantly, a lavender shawl appeared wrapped around Hermione.

"…Well… er…ah…" All Harry could do was stand there and fumble for words at the sight of Hermione. "…I suppose it'll do." He finally admitted, his face very bright red. Draco smirked triumphantly. A question suddenly popped into Harry's mind.

"Draco, are you seriously working here…you know, for fun?"

"No work is fun, Harry. But no. I work as a spy on muggles-make sure they, or wizards, don't do anything stupid to interfere with natural wizard life. And, no, it's not the same as Papa Weasel's work-he studies stupid muggle contraptions. My work is much more important. It's a form of aurorship, if you must know, Potty. And, since muggle fashion is relatively good, I, and my boss, decided to spy here. Oxford Street is relatively bustling with wizards-they're just in disguise. Everyone loves Gucci. It's also my form of payment to you all."

Harry stared at him blankly.

"Fascinating!" Hermione squealed. Harry reeled on Hermione in horror. "Why don't we go somewhere to discuss this, sometime? Perhaps I could somehow work this in to S.P.E.W.! I have it! Since muggles need protection from wizards-elves do too!" Harry clapped a hand to her mouth before she could ramble any further. But what shocked Harry even more was Draco's response.

"Sure. Whatev. I suppose you'll come, too, Potty? Seeing as I wouldn't want to go on a date with a mudblood…or a girl for that matter." Harry scowled and nodded.

"I guess. She might as well have protection."

Draco smirked, and said lazily, "so now you're up to bat, then, Potter?"

---

"MIONE!!!!" There was a loud crash and then a bang, followed by a lengthy string of expletives. Hermione rolled her eyes, sighed, and put down her book. The week leading up to the rehearsal dinner passed relatively smoothly, and quickly. Harry and Hermione barely saw one another, they were so busy with work. Though they were able to get home from work early on Friday evening, and prepare themselves for the evening's activities.

"You know… if you didn't know how to tie a tie, you could've mentioned it."

She entered the bathroom and leaned against the doorframe, eyebrows raised, arms folded across her chest. She couldn't help but smile at Harry's red face. "Oh, you. Come here." She snapped. He hung his head in shame and shoved his tie into her hand. "…Broomsticks? Really, Harry…" She shook her head and tucked her newly smoothed hair behind her ear. Harry tugged the piece of hair back out. Hermione looked up and glared.

---

Hermione lay in her bed that night, staring at the patterns the lights from the street outside made on the ceiling. The rehearsal dinner had gone by without incident (thank God). But in the back of Hermione's mind, the upcoming wedding had planted a seed in her brain: When would she get married? Would she? It was strange to think that one day, she could possibly have a wedding…or possibly not. She scowled at the ceiling as a car alarm went off. After it was finished, there was silence, and Hermione drifted into sleep.

---

It seemed she had barely slept at all when she felt herself bouncing up and down on the bed. For a moment, she had a flash back to when she saw _The Exorcist,_ and became terrified that she was being possessed. But she soon realized that there was indeed a person bouncing on her bed when the person tripped, squealed, and collapsed upon her. Hermione scowled, opening her eyes to the broad, happy face of Penelope.

"OOOMPAAAAA!!!! Today's the big day, My-my!" she squealed in happiness, as she found her balance, and started bouncing up and down again. Hermione groaned.

"What time is it, Penny?" Hermione drawled, grabbing her alarm clock. Before she could even read it, Penny cried "10:30 am!" Hermione was instantly awake, and burst into her living room. She then leapt upon her couch, bouncing upon Harry. He gave a painful yelp, and shrieked a line of curse words in between asking her what she was doing to him.

"It's 10:30, Harry! The wedding starts in an hour, and it'll take at least half an hour to get there!"

"Can't we apparate?" Harry groaned.

"No, you twit! This is a muggle wedding! Up!" Hermione snapped, yanking Harry up, shoving him into her bathroom. Hermione sighed.

"Why is it so early?" he groaned even louder.

"Because, it's Eastern Orthodox! The wedding services are very long!"

"Fifteen minutes for each of you to get ready? Not enough!" Penny sang, walking out of Hermione's room.

"Wh…what are you saying, _dear_ cousin?" Hermione growled, irritation in every syllable.

"I'm saying, My-my, that you should take advantage of your limited time as best as possible, and use the bathroom at the same time!" Penny squabbled shoving Hermione into a half naked Harry. "GAH!" Harry and Hermione squawked in unison as they smacked into each other and then backed away. "NO!" They shouted simultaneously at Penelope, but she was already leaving out the door. Just before she closed it, she poked her head back in.

"Have fun, kids!" And then she slammed the door, leaving a bare-chested Harry and a grumbling Hermione. After a pause, Harry glanced at Hermione. "…Well… she DOES have a point." He offered, checking the clock again.

"A hat might cover it up." She snapped, yanking her nuclear explosion of hair out of its hair-tie. "But, you know what, FINE." She pushed her way into the shower, knocking Harry over like a bowling pin. He chuckled as he heard her screech: "HOW DARE YOU FLUSH THE TOILET?!"

"Okay, sorry." He brushed his teeth and began to attack his disastrous hair. As he yanked an already broken comb through a particularly tough snag, a strange thought popped into his head. If he had such crazy hair, and Hermione had such crazy hair… what would their kids look like? He glanced over at the shower curtain and shook his head. All this wedding crap was getting to him. He needed to refocus, get more into Auror training… Then his head would be put back on right again. But… that didn't mean he couldn't think about what was behind that misted over shower door… right?

---

"I now pronounce you husband and wife. You may kiss the bride!" Hermione unsuccessfully tried to wipe away tears as she watched Penelope and her new husband kiss. Harry rolled his eyes. "Longest damned ceremony ever." He grumbled next to her, his hands fidgeting with the hem of his jacket. Hermione batted at his arm, still trying to wipe away tears.

"Remember? Greek Orthodox ceremonies are always long, you pigglesnort!" She hissed. Harry snorted in response, earning a few glares. He turned back to face the front, a mischievous smile playing on his lips. Hermione sighed.

"What are you up to, now?" She whispered as everyone stood up to watch Penelope and her husband walk down the aisle. They hastily stood up, Hermione now in front of Harry, watching the happy couple depart-until a loud squawk filled the church, causing the organ to stop, and everyone to turn around.

"Hi, everyone…" Harry said awkwardly. Hermione grumbled, covering her bottom with her hands. She turned hastily around to face Harry.

"Do that again and I will castrate you with… I don't know what! But it will be painful! And bloody!" Hermione whispered stupidly. She glared once more and turned back around, and the organ resumed playing and everyone else turned back around with her. Hermione could feel her face turning even hotter as she heard Harry chuckling behind her. She felt his breath tickling her ear and her skin tingled.

"At least _I _have a sense of humor."

No sooner had everyone turned around that the organ finished and the happy wedded couple was gone. Everyone was filing out. Hermione and Harry left their pew to leave.

---

Hermione's hands started to numb as she gulped down another frothy beverage consisting of what she didn't know what. All she knew was that it was delicious, and free (because it was what was being catered). Along with that, she grabbed shots of clear liquid that tasted like cough syrup, unable to taste the difference between the two beverages. She finished, and searched around the room, quickly spotting a tall man with messy black hair dancing awkwardly with Hermione and Penelope's grandmother. She grinned, dazed, and shouted: "'ARRY!" She stumbled in his direction, and slapped a hand on his back.

"Youshe a goo' dansher," she chuckled. She stood back, flailing her arms out welcomingly. "Sho, tha' means, mishter, tha' you needs ta dance-" she pointed at herself somewhere along her body-"wif me! Hah, yes!" She collapsed into his arms as he let go of her grandmother.

"Oh, right. Okay…you really don't drink that often, do you?" Harry stuttered, self-conscious under the watchful eye of Hermione's rather conservative grandmother, and shocked that such a little amount of alcohol (to him) could inebriate her so greatly. They stumbled around the dance floor, until Harry successfully dragged her into the girls' bathroom, and into one of the stalls. Harry wanted to be safe, and take her out of the public eye. Hermione was laughing like a hyena, while Harry burned with embarrassment. He was very glad that he decided to remain completely sober; he did not want to have both of them mentally impaired due to the party.

"Fun-fun!" Hermione squealed.

"Yeah," Harry peeped, sitting down on the toilet under the pressure of Hermione's weight. Hermione commenced to sit on his lap. Harry's face burned even more due to the situation at hand. Then, for some odd reason, he remembered that unhelpful trick he'd been told for handling nervous energy: just imagine the other people in their underwear.

"Great." He mumbled, but thankfully, Hermione didn't notice. She was too busy cackling. Suddenly the already cramped space seemed even tighter. Harry could feel his heart racing, but Hermione seemed completely unaware.

"You loooook HAWT!" Hermione yelled, poking him in the chest and giggling. Harry couldn't help but laugh too. Her eyes widened. "Oh nooooo Harry! I have work tomorrow! Shhh!!!" She tried to put her finger on her lips but missed and stuck it up her nose. Harry resisted telling Hermione that it was only Saturday, and that no one works on Sundays.

A sound that resembled the noise a whale makes filled the bathroom, followed by a series of loud bangs that could only be due to someone smacking up against the wall. Harry unlatched the bathroom stall door and poked his head out.

"OOOMPA!" Penelope bellowed, raising her glass of ouzo. She took another drunken step towards the sink and smacked her face against the mirror. "Oopsie-daisy!" She squeaked, and then gasped when she saw Harry and Hermione. Her puce face had a devilish grin etched on top of it. "Looks like the stork'll be here soon…" She chortled and danced back to the dance parlour. Hermione squinted.

"Hoozat?" Hermione stumbled out of the stall and smacked into the opposite wall.

"Ouchies!" Hermione squealed. No sooner had the words escaped her mouth that she collapsed on the bathroom floor, roaring with laugher. Harry sighed.

"Time to go," he muttered, lifting her up.

"Hm?" Hermione squeaked. "Whashat?" She slowly lifted up her hand to stroke his face, but missed, again, slapping his forehead.

"Ouch!" he murmured, gazing at the beet red face of Hermione. His heart beat loudly in his chest, and he felt the blood rush to his face. He leaned into her so close that he almost brushed his lips against hers. Before he knew it, he pulled away from her, groaning in frustration. He quickly apparated out of the building with her.


	5. Chapter 5

**Chapter V: The After Party**

Harry collapsed upon the carpet in the foyer, exhausted. As his eyes began to shut, he smiled at the fact that he could finally sleep peacefully, without half Greek women popping in to warn them of enormous weddings. However, he remembered he was not on his couch, and felt the weight that could only match a person lying on top of him. He opened his eyes and all he could see was a mass of frizzy brown hair. Harry groaned, and sat up, pushing Hermione to the floor. He had hoped that she magically flew to her bed while Harry remained comfortably on the floor. It was hard work keeping track of a woman who had completely lost it by drinking a quarter of what it took Harry to get drunk.

"Hermione, wake up. Hey, I want to go to sleep! Oi!" He said poking her arm, and Hermione groaned equally exhaustedly. He continued to jab at her arm, in an attempt to awake her out of her stupor. Finally, Hermione seemed to have come to her senses, and made several attempts to sit up, finally succeeding by clawing at Harry's shoulders.

"Unnggghhh… stobbit…" She whacked at his face. "Geroff…" She tipped over into his lap and he fell back against the wall.

"Alright…this…is good…" Harry sighed at the drunken Hermione sitting awkwardly on top of him, face nestled in his chest. He reached up to stroke her now frizzy hair. At that moment, the room was filled with the horrifying sound of a drunken Hermione snoring like a foghorn. Harry ignored her. When he came across an unusually bad tangle, he yanked through her hair until his hands came free, all the while angrily thinking how whatever gel she used didn't actually work. Unfortunately for him, he awoke the 'sleeping beauty,' who immediately sat up and screamed in his face.

"Are you done?" Harry said impatiently when she finished. Hermione scowled.

"That hurt!" Hermione whined.

"Well, excuse me Princess Hair!" He stuttered stupidly.

"You should be sorry, silly person!" She said, tapping his nose with her index finger. Unable to control herself (for she was so greatly inebriated) she fell onto his shoulder. He felt his face go hot.

"Er… maybe you should get off." He started pushing her away, but she gripped his suit jacket with the tips of her fingers. "Or…not." He stopped pushing her away and she nestled into his lap, yawning. At one point, her body became so consumed by her yawn, she pulled him hard onto the ground, with him right on top of her. Harry groaned at the fact that they had ended up in the exact same position they'd begun in, only in reverse order. He pushed himself up so his head was inches from hers.

"You know what, buddy? You're a good kid," she said matter-of-factly, slapping her hand on his face, and then proceeding to tap it softly.

"Thanks. So're you," he said back hoarsely. For a few minutes, Harry stared at her face intently, studying the smile lines around her mouth and her eyelashes. Hermione smiled. "Stop staring! It's rude!" She tried to move her arm to smack him, but Harry held it down.

"Ha-ha. I win." He decided to go along with her drunkenness (what could hurt), and grinned mischievously. "So what do I get for winning?" He wriggled his eyebrows suggestively. Hermione laughed.

"This." She leaned in, but couldn't seem to decide which Harry to choose.

"Er… over here…" He said awkwardly, pulling her face in his direction.

"Let's try this again. You know where I am now, right?"

"No probremo, amigo," Hermione said, leaning in to his face. Before she realized what she was doing, she was grabbing onto his belt.

---

"Oi! Anyone in there? We've been knocking on the door for ten minutes, and there's been no response! Hello? Hey!" Outside of Hermione's front door, there were quiet anxious murmurs, and finally, the same voice quietly said "_alohomora_," and opened the door. He creaked through the front hall, wand out in front of him protectively. He was met by a sight completely shocking, yet not horrifying.

"Oi! Luna, come here! Look at this!" Ron whispered excitedly, pulling his wife to his side, pointing at the site before them. Luna squealed in delight.

"I'll make something to celebrate!" She squealed bustling to Hermione's kitchenette.

"I'll watch!" Ron said, tip-toeing to the kitchen table, and sitting down before it. "I'll let you know if they wake up…although, I doubt they will," he said with a snicker in his voice. Fifteen minutes later, Luna set an enormous plate of chocolate chip and blueberry pancakes before Ron.

"These all for me?" He cried unnecessarily loudly, reaching for the top of the pile.

"No, stupid! They're for all of us!" Luna shrieked even louder. Suddenly there was a stir from the shocking sight. Luna and Ron froze.

---

Harry blinked. If he didn't know any better, he would've guessed that he heard voices in their already locked apartment. But, he didn't much care. He was exhausted from the night before, angry that he had been woken up so early, and didn't much feel like thinking. He assumed that if it were someone ready to attack him, they would not have been so loud, and they would have already attacked him. However, he was preoccupied with another weird sensation. He could feel the carpet all over his body, and even his rear-end. That was strange, he thought. He suddenly realized that there was something lying on top of him that was the same weight as a human being. Then, as if he were Isaac Newton having a breakthrough, he realized what was going on. His eyes shot open, and he found a mass of bushy brown hair snuggled against his chest. The blood drained from his face as he raised his head up enough to see that there was indeed a body following the mass of hair. However, this body was not only female, but it was naked female. Harry sat up so fast that he toppled Hermione over, and found that he, too, was indeed naked. Harry gasped, slapping his hand to his face in shame.

Another thing instantly dawned on him. If both of them had been asleep, then who were the people making all that racket? He gazed around the room quickly until he spotted two people, both seated, staring at him intently. What ever blood was left in his face drained as he realized Ron and Luna were sitting in Hermione's kitchenette, staring at him, with a gargantuan pile of pancakes in between them.

"Er… would you like a pancake, Harry?" Luna awkwardly held out a delicious-looking blueberry pancake, dripping with syrup.

"Em…Okay…" he said, stumbling over to her. He took the pancake, and shoved it in his mouth. All the while, Luna was staring at his 'unspeakables.' Ron scowled.

"You're not going to run off on me, are you?"

"No…but I just didn't know that they came so…_big._" Ron's face flushed with embarrassment.

"…Maybe I should…just…go put some clothes on." Harry said finally. Ron nodded enthusiastically. Harry glanced down at the plate.

"Er…may I?" Without waiting for an answer, he grabbed two pancakes, using them to cover himself, and sprinted back to Hermione's room where his suitcase was.

---

Meanwhile, Hermione was still snoozing naked in the middle of the living room. Ron tried not to notice. Luna rolled her eyes.

"Go wake her up." She prodded his arm with a spatula.

"No! I can't do that! She's a girl…and…and…she's NAKED…and…well I…I forgot about her like that…" He squawked. "And that's beside the point! The point is you don't even need a stupid spatula! You're using magic to flip those pancakes!" Luna shrugged.

"Fine."

Much to Ron's dismay, she picked up the platter of pancakes and brought it down to Hermione's face level.

"Hermione! Wakey wakey! It's eggs and bakey! …Or, in your case, sex and bakey…" She chortled at her own bad joke. Slowly, Hermione's eyes opened. She stared for a moment in absolute horror at the pancakes. "…What, you don't like chocolate chips?" She said, almost sarcastically. Hermione sat up quickly, clutching a hand to her throbbing forehead, and looked around. A more maniacal looking than usual Luna sat before her with the most pancakes she had ever seen in one place, and a blushing Ron who she at first had mistaken for a stop sign. She then looked down.

"You know, I sometimes enjoy walking around naked myself. However, I always end up doing it when I'm by myself, or with Ron. You, my dear, are in the company of friends. What I'm saying is-_put some clothes on_," she finished with a whisper, giggling. Hermione stood up, and Ron's eyes bulged at the sight of Hermione in full glory. Hermione gulped, and sprinted into her room, slamming the door. Luna resisted telling her that Harry was in there.

Hermione was running around the room, not thinking: she was on a mission for clothes. She went scarlet over the stupidity of her actions. She then realized that she should take a shower, and yanked her bathroom door open, leaping into the already running shower.

"Em…do you mind?" Harry muttered. Hermione thought her eyes must have shot out of her skull like a cartoon. She jerked her head, and gazed into his wet face.

"Oh…no…this is an absolute nightmare!" She squeaked.

"Oh, well sorry!" Harry said sarcastically.

"No, not you…the fact that we've been caught by Loony, and my ex-boyfriend! Ah!" she gave a terrified sigh. Harry grinned.

"Ha-ha!" Harry said, as he washed his armpits.

"I guess I should get out of here…" she said, hoping she didn't have to.

"Whatever," Harry said opening his mouth to let the water in his mouth.

"Oh, well, if I must," Hermione said dramatically turning to him. Before she could continue on her dramatic soliloquy, Harry spit the water in her face.

"Ha-ha. I win…Again." He grinned. Hermione rolled her eyes and grabbed a pink razor and started shaving her leg. Harry raised an eyebrow. "You want to spend time with me so badly that you're willing to cut yourself?" He laughed. Hermione glared up at him.

"I hate you!" She whined.

"Oh, real intelligent, Hermione. I wonder what the professors would say if they heard you now!" He teased, poking her leg with his toe.

"Shut up, you." She brandished a bar of soap.

"Oh, I'm _so_ scared, Hermione!"

"You should be! I'm a VERY scary person!" She nodded. Harry snorted.

"Yeah, I mean, you'd be a terrific fighter. You'd just need to find the right copy of your opponent before you attack them." Hermione stared blankly at him.

"Don't you remember?" Hermione squinted, trying to remember.

"Oh. Sort of. My brain certainly wasn't working last night," she sighed at the thought of the embarrassing state she had been in.

"Yeah, maybe. But at least the rest of you was working," he said offhandedly. Hermione blushed.

"Thanks, I guess," she muttered.

"Yeh, it's a compliment," he finished.

They showered in awkward silence until Luna poked her head into the shower.

"While I'm sure you all are having a _ravishing_ time-" she looked pointedly at Harry's southern regions, "-the pancakes are cold and Ron is whining more than usual. Could you please save the washing up for another time? Thanks!" Harry and Hermione stared stupidly after her.

"Well… the towels are on the door." Hermione muttered, blushing. Harry nodded and turned off the shower. They both grabbed towels and got dressed on opposite sides of the room. When they finally came out, the pancakes were gone and Luna was in the process of chasing Ron around the cramped apartment with the spatula.

"THEY WERE TOO BUSY HAVING SEX!!! I WAS _HUNGRY!"_ Ron cried, ducking behind a large antique vase and nearly toppling it over. Hermione winced, murmuring something about the sixteenth century. Luna hurled the spatula at his head, narrowly missing.

"I _made_ them! They were my _children_!" She cried, stopping to clutch her heart. Ron stopped.

"Now wait just a minute. That's the stupidest thing I've ever heard. How can they be? I mean, for one, they aren't even humans. Two, you're not pregnant…or are you?" He implored. "No…YOU'RE PREGNANT AREN'T YOU!? I BET YOU ARE AND YOU DIDN'T TELL ME! IT BETTER NOT BE WITH SOME OTHER MAN!"

"Don't be silly, Ronald. You aren't _good_ enough to get me pregnant," Luna said coolly. Ron stood there aghast.

"How very _dare_ you!" He gasped.

"Well, it's true, snipplewidget!"

"…I can't live this insult down," he said angrily. With that, he grabbed her wrist, and pulled her into Hermione's room without a word, slamming the door. Harry and Hermione stared at each other blankly. Hermione sighed, pulling out a loaf of bread to make toast. Harry grabbed Hermione's home remedies book, and concocted the same hangover recipe he had previously made for himself. He poured her a glass, and placed it on the table next to Hermione's toast breakfast. They sat down, and ate, waiting for them to finish.

"So…today's Sunday," Hermione said, failing to make the situation less awkward as she heard banging and clattering of furniture in her room.

"…yeah…."

"So, no-" another great bang "-…work today, yes, Harry?"

"Right…same with you?"

"Oh no…not today…"

Harry stared at the door. "If that's not enough to get her pregnant, I don't know what is," he said. Hermione grinned.

"Well-" they could hear Luna screaming, "this is Loony we're talking about."

There was a brief pause and then Luna was screaming something about beef. Harry looked at Hermione.

"…You're-" more screaming and then a loud crack that sounded like wood splintering, "-right."

"SEE?! I TOLD YOU THAT I'M _UNSTOPABLE!_ _**I'M A STALLION**!_" Ron cried. Harry and Hermione stared at each other, and they both whipped out their wands, muttering the silencing charm on her room in unison. They sighed.

"Is that how they are _every _time they…you know…" Harry asked.

"Oh dear, I hope not…that would be disturbing in all shapes and forms"

They sat in silence for twenty more minutes, finishing their toast, and hangover potion (which instantly cured Hermione's horrid headache). Finally, the two returned very disheveled. Harry and Hermione undid the silencing charm, and were able to hear Ron challenging Luna.

"How was that, _dearie?_ Was that good enough for you?"

"Unusually good. There must be some vibe in this apartment," she said, grinning devilishly at the other two.

"I hate to ask this…but are you always that way?" Harry blurted out.

"No. Ron was trying this time," Luna said coldly. "Everyone is better when they try hard."

"Oh, speaking of trying hard, I've got practice, now," Ron said looking at his watch in a rushed tone. "We've got to go, Loony!"

"Oh, okay. Well, hey, do you guys want to have dinner?"

"Em…if you don't do that again, sure," Hermione said, timidly.

"Great! How about the Knight's Templar Bar" She said. "We get seats there for free, now!"

"Em…okay," Hermione said. "Tonight?"

"No, Tuesday's better for us. According to _The Quibbler,_ it's bad luck to eat with exactly four people on a Monday or Sunday," Ron said knowingly.

"It's true. My father had an interview with Professor Trelawney about the importance of striving to find the crumpled snorkack again," Luna said dreamily. Harry and Hermione glanced at each other, lost at how all of what Ron and Luna just said connected.

"Em….okay," Hermione continued. "We'll meet you at seven thirty on Tuesday, right?"

"GREAT!" They said in unison as they apparated out of the apartment.

Now that Ron and Luna were gone, Harry and Hermione were left in the now all-too-quiet apartment.

"So… what's on your schedule for today?" Harry asked finally, shoving his hands in his pockets.

"Well… let's see… I don't have to go grocery shopping, I don't have that much work to do… so, nothing." She finished. They fell into silence again, staring at the floor.

"This is pretty strange." Harry pulled out a chair from the table and sat down. Hermione shrugged and leaned against the counter.

"Well, we can't really say that it was _totally_ unexpected. These things happen when you put a boy and girl into the same apartment." Hermione sounded like she was just discussing another article from the Daily Prophet. Harry shrugged.

"I guess. I dunno, maybe we should just forget about it and go on being friends."

"Now, wait, I wasn't finished talking!" Hermione snapped. "Don't be so ridiculous Harry, you know that never works. They do it all the time in movies and it _never_ works!" She said bossily. She sighed. "I mean, we had _sex!_"

Harry rolled his eyes. "Oh, that's pretty obvious."

"_Sex, _Harry! _Sex_! And…well…that's a big deal! A really big deal!"

"You're not really good at these sudden retorts are you?" Hermione glared at him.

"This is serious, Harry! I mean, what's going to happen now? What will people say?" She gasped. "What will my _parents _say! Oh…no…damn it, why do they have to be traditional dentist type people." She started dancing nervously, mumbling, and terrified.

"Calm down, 'Mione. It's not like the whole world is-"

She flapped her arms up and down in a frenzy. "HARRY! _LUNA_ saw us. And if that isn't bad enough, _Ron_ knows now, too. It's just a little less public than going and doing it in Piccadilly Circus!" Harry rolled his eyes.

"I really don't think-"

Just then, a fluffy barn-owl smacked into Hermione's window. Hermione jumped in fright and then opened the window for the it. It made its way in and dropped a letter on the table. Harry snatched it.

"Congratulations on finally getting it on. Love, Draco and Seamus."

"AHHHHHHH!!!" Hermione screeched, running in circles around her tiny kitchen. "How did _they_ find out!? This is preposterous! Absolutely absurd!" She cried, throwing herself into Harry's arms.

"Em…this isn't making the situation any better," he said awkwardly.

"Ohhhh….I just don't _care!_" She sobbed, gripping his sweatshirt tightly.

"Okay…" Harry said, his face burning. He began patting her back softly, and was instantly reminded of his first kiss with Cho Chang. He cursed under his breath. He really hadn't matured in this area much even in four years. Hermione, however didn't seem to care. She just buried her face in the crook of his neck, making strange gurgling noises. "Er… you okay in there Hermione?" He asked the frizzy mass of brown hair that was getting frizzier with each frantic sob and gurgle. "Er… okay…" He tried patting her back again. "Well… maybe we can solve this by just saying we were dating all along?"

The gurgling and sobbing stopped for a second. Hermione shot up. "You're brilliant, Harry! Then no one will be able to make a big deal out of it, because couples have sex all the time!" Her eyes bulged. "But _then_ we'll have to deal with people asking us why we didn't tell them!" She threw her head back, and began the absurd gurgling noises again.

"Well, it's not _that_ big of a deal. I mean, we'll just say we wanted to keep it private, I guess." Hermione stopped, and shot up.

"Harry, you're _brilliant! _So much more so than Ron! Thank god." She sighed, nuzzling her face in his neck, again. Harry grinned.

"Well…at least you were _good_ last night," Harry said sheepishly. He felt Hermione smile.

"Thanks." Silence filled the room as Hermione clung to Harry's sweatshirt, pulling them closer together. Harry continued to sheepishly pat Hermione's back softly, thinking about the 'ruse' they'd just devised. He found that he was growing less embarrassed with each passing second of Hermione clinging him to dear life. The more he thought about it, the more he realized he wanted it. However, he attempted phrasing his question in a way that would cause him the least amount of pain possible; he had faced enough with Ginny.

"…so is this 'dating' thing-only a façade? Or are we _really_ dating?" Harry asked shyly.

"Oh, I don't know Harry," she sighed. She moved her face so her nose brushed against his neck, tickling him.

"I'd say that we are," Harry said. Hermione pulled away far enough to see his face, blushing.

"Harry…what?"

"Well, do you want to? I mean...we don't _have_ to, if you don-" Hermione silenced him, placing her index finger atop is lips. She smiled sultrily, nodding her head. Harry returned the grin, and pulled her lips to his.


	6. Chapter 6

**Chapter VI: Realization and REVENGE!!!**

"Harry! Are you listening to me?"

Harry's head snapped up as he was rudely pulled from his reverie.

"Huh? Oh. Sorry, Neville. What were you saying?" He asked, setting down the enormous pile of auror files he had been sorting through. He had been reading over the tiny print for so long that he had forgotten he was even at his desk. On top of that, he was distracted by the raunchy images of the previous weekend that had been floating tantalizingly through his head.

"I was just _saying, _how. Was. Your. Weekend?" Neville said in a patronizingly slow voice.

Harry grinned, and felt his face go warm.

"Good…" He said a bit nervously, attempting to sound casual and indifferent.

"Oh yeah, didn't you get evicted? Did you find somewhere to stay for this weekend?" he said, this time sounding worried. Harry felt his face go from warm to hot.

"Yeah, I did, thanks," he said, his voice cracking. Neville narrowed his eyes suspiciously.

"What's with you, Harry? Who did you end up staying with?"

Harry gulped. "Hermione." Neville grinned maliciously.

"Oh. _Ohh. _I see… No _wonder _you're blushing…" He snickered. "Well, judging by how _much_ you're blushing, might you have… you know…" He glanced around secretively, and leaned in closer. Harry did not think that the room could be any more suffocating. "get… _jiggy wid' it_, as the American muggles say?" He whispered excitedly. Harry stared at Neville for a long time, waiting for it to sink in. Eventually he grinned and turned back to his files. Neville sputtered as his eyes bulged.

"I was just joking! Y-you're _serious?!_"

Harry nodded. Neville's grin spread.

"So… when's the wedding?" He asked. Harry simply laughed, shaking his head.

---

"Hermione! I just got the support of Roger McKinnon from the Protection of Magical Creatures of the Ministry of Magic! This is a breakthrough for us!" Lavender Brown shrieked, jumping up and down excitedly.

Hermione leapt out of her chair in excitement. "Are you serious?" Hermione shrieked, in an almost perfect imitation of Lavender. "I think I might need some air, now!" she said breathlessly. She stepped out of her small office across the street from the Leaky Cauldron, and took a deep breath of the crisp fall air. Lavender followed her outside, clipboard in hand.

"Well, Hermione, I just felt like I should read you what he said," Lavender said, excitedly. Hermione sighed, irritated. She was incredibly happy over their success… But one of the real reasons why she had come outside was to get a chance to think of something other than elves. She was very surprised at herself. She was normally, in fact, always, extremely diligent and focused on her work. But she just couldn't focus on it today- Memories of the previous weekend prodded at her, distracting her.

She sighed again, only dreamily, this time. Lavender frowned.

"Is there something you want to talk about, Hermione?" She patted her back comfortingly. "Because I'm there, dear."

"…Thanks, Lavender," Hermione said abashedly.

"Let's talk about something other than work! Like…what did you do this weekend?" Lavender inquired. Hermione felt her face go hot.

"I…em…oh…" Hermione said feeling her face go hotter with each passing moment. Lavender frowned.

"Bashful today, aren't you? What did you do, finally get some?"

Lavender said with a laugh. Hermione squeaked.

"Seriously? That was a wild guess!" Lavender said, shocked.

"Well…it was a good guess," Hermione said quietly.

Lavender began bouncing on her toes childishly. "Great galleons! With whom? With Whom?! Anyone _I _know? With whom!?"

Hermione squeaked even louder. "Y-yes."

"Oooh!" Lavender squealed. "Who!? And we're not going back inside until you tell me!"

Hermione sighed in defeat. "Harry." She said flatly. Lavender gasped, clapping her hands to her face in shock.

"You… and _Harry?! _Well… now that I think about it… there _was_ always something there during school… but then Ron always was getting in the way of anything there." She added with a shudder. She was still sore that Ron had merely used her in his ploy to win the heart of Hermione. What an epic failure _that_ had been.

Hermione cleared her throat impatiently. "Can we get back to work now?"

---

Harry sighed as he dropped the latest investigation files he had to study on the table. He rubbed his eyes. He couldn't wait until his auror training was complete. When he finished this, he would never have to study for another test again. He considered death-defyingly trying investigations much easier than silly tests.

He opened the refrigerator, peering around for something to satisfy his intense hunger. He spied an unusually large piece of chocolate cake, and pulled it out. Without looking for a fork, he shoved one third of it in his mouth in one bite.

Just as he began wondering why he was the only person there, Hermione bustled out of her room in a bathrobe with a towel wrapped around her head. Harry frowned.

"Gong shomwhel?" He asked, but Hermione ignored him.

"Where have you been?"

"Err…wolk?" Harry uttered through the mass of chocolate in his mouth. Hermione ignored him again.

"Lavender Brown is having a small party to celebrate S.P.E.W. getting McKinnon's approval. Meaning-you have to come, and you should've been here sooner!" She snapped, and yanked the cake out of his hands, and shoved it in the refrigerator. Harry swallowed his own cake.

"What? I have to go to her flat? Why?! I don't like her!"

"Well…you do now…" she sighed. "And she'll have lots of food." Harry perked up.

"Fine. I want to be back by 9:00, though."

"Why? Is that your bedtime? Afraid the monster under your…_couch_ will come out to steal your footie-pajamas?" Hermione said maliciously.

"Ha-ha," said Harry sarcastically. "It is my bedtime, because I thought that the monster was you, but if you want to stay later, then that's okay with me," he finished with a satisfied sigh. Hermione scowled, and bustled into her room to finish getting dressed.

Harry looked in the mirror and shrugged. He felt clean enough. He reached to open the refrigerator door to finish off the cake, when Hermione yanked him into her room, and shoved him in the shower.

"TAKE OFF YOUR CLOTHES!"

"Whoa, Hermione-getting a little too-" Hermione cut him off with the roll of her eyes.

"I mean, take a shower-you're filthy…you pig!"

"Yessir-I mean ma'am," Harry said with a sarcastic salute.

Hermione yanked her oxford shirt over her head without unbuttoning it (she didn't feel like unbuttoning it, and rebuttoning it again), and pulled on a pair of jeans. She bustled into the steam-filled bathroom, and commenced the task of putting on makeup…she detested this job with the fiery passion of a thousand suns.

"So, who's this McKinnon bloke?" Harry called from the shower.

"Harry-you work at the Ministry! He's the head of the Protection of Magical Creatures Agency!"

"Well, sorry for not knowing every single person in the Ministry," Harry called back, exasperatedly.

"You should be!" She turned towards the shower and stuck her tongue out in triumph. Although, she doubted Harry could see her behind all the mist.

"I saw that, 'Mione…"Harry warned, poking his head out from behind the shower door.

"Just get ready, Harry! We should be there in two minutes!" Hermione flapped around her flat like a demented seagull in anxiety.

"Meh, we'll just apparate. You're such a prudish worrywart." Harry muttered, stepping out of the shower and wrapping a towel around his waist. Hermione froze and stomped back to the bathroom, index finger waggling dangerously.

"I _may _be a worrywart, Harry. But I think we _both_ know for a fact I'm certainly not a prude." She hissed, but there was a devilish gleam in her brown eyes.

"Oh yeah? Prove it." Harry smirked, drying his hair with the towel previously around his waist. Hermione's jaw dropped almost cartoonishly and her face became beet red, but she said nothing, only capable of opening and closing her mouth like a fish. Finally, she found her words again.

"Fine. I will. Just name it. I'll do it." She said, lifting her chin up. Harry grinned.

"You're going to wish you hadn't said that, 'Mione." He stepped closer and tugged on the collar of her expressly conservative shirt. "Ditch this and go for that sequined number I spotted in the back of your closet."

"Wh-what?! Don't be ridiculous, Harry. I would never own anything with _sequins._" She said the word as though it were some sort of disgustingly offensive expletive, but Harry sauntered past her (still towel-less) and rifled through her closet until he found the offending object.

"Oh, and," Harry said, "you have to wear Ginny's birthday present for me tonight," Harry grinned sultrily.

Hermione sighed. "Well, I'm trying not to be a prude…so…okay," she said with an exhausted sigh, and yanked off her oxford.

Sequins indeed. The top was black sequins with multicolored stripes of sequins, strapless, edged in hot pink lace. "Lavender will be happy that I took advantage of a drunken indiscretion of hers anyway. Birthday present from last year, girls' night out."

Hermione explained, blushing as she zipped the ridiculous garment up in the front. It looked even more ludicrous paired with her goody-two-shoes jeans and plain loafers, as well as her nearly makeup-less face.

"Damn…your friends sure do have a mind for fashion. Oh, and by the way, you look like a streetwalker splinched with McGonagall." Trying not to laugh, Harry slowly circled her, getting the full view. "And I suppose it's a bit big in some places… maybe toilet paper can help that." He added, tugging at the wealth of extra fabric. Hermione glared but the intense blushing ruined the effect entirely.

"If you think so, why don't you get it?" Hermione stuttered. Finally, she had managed to embarrass Harry, who flushed hotly.

"Do you mean…just get it, and _give _it to you? Or…or…"

"Well…I mean, I'm sure you have better judgment than _I_ do…you can get some practice in while you're at it," Hermione said in the most sensuous voice she could muster (which, compared to many, was nothing. To Harry, however, his face looked like it was about to combust), pulling the extra cloth out in assistance.

"I-I'm just going to go er… get dressed." Harry's voice cracked as he turned and snatched up the clothing Hermione had unceremoniously tossed on the bed before in one of her angry fits. He finished dressing in record time, and together they apparated to Lavender's flat. It was going to be one hell of a dinner party.

---

"So, um, Harry… Haven't seen you in a bit, then." Lavender took another fruitless stab at breaking the ice, but it was no good. The Patils, Neville, Luna, and Ron couldn't stop gaping stupidly at Hermione's 'new look' and Harry, for once, was excited for Draco to arrive. The reaction to the besequined Hermione would be priceless, and Harry had nicked a muggle camera on their way up from some poor muggle's flat to capture all of it forever.

The soup had been served and now everyone sat in silence. Ron's eyes were fixated on Hermione's now filled-in chest and Luna seemed to be, as usual, on some sort of strong medication. The Patils were most likely thinking about how Hermione's tastes moved from one horrid phase to the next, and suffice it to say, Harry was thoroughly enjoying himself.

Plus Hermione was also going to be wearing Ginny's present tonight. But he'd save that thought for later.

"No I guess you haven't. I'm still, you know, me." He grinned and sensed Hermione rolling her eyes. Another lengthy silence ensued, but it was punctured like a balloon by the arrival of the two gayest wizards that the third rock from the Sun had ever lain eyes on.

Yes, Draco and Seamus were in the flat.

"Why, Mudblood, we match." Draco fake-gushed, entering the flat in a sequin pinstripe three piece suit, complete with similar hot pink lace. Seamus had donned a fairly simple suit in comparison, but of course next to Harry or Ron he still would have appeared more feminine than even Hermione. Hermione twitched, and everyone else did a double-take. And yes, they did in fact match.

Harry wondered who the hell would have ever been allowed to create such an obscenely ugly garment, but his reverie was interrupted by more of Draco's banter.

"Oh, and look, it's Potty. Why, you're sitting awfully close to Mudblood. Have you made any progress since two weekends ago? Judging by your obscene blush, I'd have to say 'yes,'" he said lazily.

"For Goodness sakes, Dré, be nice! I told you before we left 'be especially nice to Harry!' Besides, you owe him your life-twice! And it's just not nice!" Seamus muttered angrily. "And besides, remember what I _promised_ you for when we get home…" he continued, more bashful this time. Draco donned the most obscenely fake-nice grin ever to dawn the face of the planet.

"So _good_ to see you all, fellow wizards/halfbloods/bloodtraitors/mudbloods! I trust the past two years have been ideal, and…cumbersome. Please, excuse my arrival, but I'm with Seamus…who was, indeed, invited," Draco finished in the most faux gracious voice ever to grace the universe. Ron shrugged.

"At least he's trying, right?"

"Yeah, 's better than nothing," Harry said, astonished.

"Did you know he's gay?" Ron said, leaning closer.

"Yeah, found out on Friday when we went to Gucci-" Ron raised an eyebrow- "to buy Hermione a dress for her cousin's wedding. He was the employee who helped us." Ron raised his eyebrows even further. "Apparently, it's his job to make sure that the wizarding world is kept separate from the muggle world. Oxford Street is where he spies. I guess this is like his way of saying thanks to us for saving his life two fold."

"Ah…" Ron said. "Did you know Seamus was gay?"

"No idea. And who'd've thought that he'd go out with Draco of all people?"

"Well, if you had kept up with him, you'd've found out that he 'came out of the closet' about when you dumped Ginny."

"Oh, that's right, I did get a note signed from Draco and Seamus," Harry interrupted. Ron ignored him.

"But, I guess you were really down in the dumps about that…and you became a crumpled snorkack for a while…" Ron sigehd, realizing how foolish he must have sounded. "Sorry. This is what happens when you marry Luna…" Ron finished helplessly. Luna piped up.

"Ah, yes. But you do enjoy _my_ version of all my father's recipes," she said triumphantly. "I also help you solve the problems you can't, and I believe that I _satisfy_ your needs, am I correct?" Luna continued, flirting.

"Oh, my God, yes!" Ron said, jumping up immediately and pulling her into the bathroom with a devilish grin on his face. Luna continued to wear her dreamy expression, but with a sultry undertone. Harry stared after them, dumbfounded. Feebly, he turned towards Hermione, who apparently had the same reaction he had.

"Oh my God, Weasel really is an animal," Draco said flatly, unable to contain his sly remarks any longer. "Well, let's get this party started. I brought American firewhisky. That ought to liven up the crowd a little bit," he finished with a bored tone. Everyone gathered around him as he popped off the cap of an unusually large bottle full of firewhisky ("7 sickles if you know where to buy it," Draco said proudly).

Before he was even able to fill everyone's glasses, however, there was a pop just beyond Lavender's threshold. Harry glanced towards the door, and spotted a fairly tall woman, with fiery red hair. It wasn't until Draco called him a troll's apprentice that Harry realized he was staring stupidly at Ginny, and his glass was overflowing. He apologized to Draco, cleaned the mess he made with a swish of his wand, and caught Ginny's eye.

She quickly broke contact with him, and bustled passed him (adding a little shove with her shoulder), and embraced Lavender. Harry glanced at Hermione, who wore an expression of mild irritation, but did not seem to be surprised at her arrival. Hermione noticed Harry's dumbfounded expression.

"Lavender said she wanted to invite her," Hermione said weakly, shrugging her shoulders.

"Well…why didn't you tell me?" Harry whispered angrily.

"Because I didn't want to upset you! You would've been in an angry mood all throughout the party!"

"Oh, so now I'll just be angrier for the rest of the party for not being told sooner? Oh, well that makes perfect sense! Woo-hoo!" He said, shaking his hands above his head in mock excitement.

"Well, it's not like I had time telling you that she would be there. Look forward to the after the party, remember?" A phantasmagorical and orgasmical expression came over Harry's face. "And, besides. This might be a good time to make up with her. I made up with Ron, right?"

"Yeah, but you two decided mutually to break up…I just didn't want a three person relationship," Harry whispered back frantically. But before Hermione could respond, Lavender pranced up with Ginny at her side.

"Harry, you remember Ginny, right?" She bleated. Harry grunted in agreement.

"It's so good to see you, Ginny!" Hermione squealed with mock-enthusiasm. Of course, it was too subtle for Ginny and went right over her head. She squealed back and embraced Hermione with the force to crush a boulder, it seemed. Apparently Ginny was still in the dark about Hermione's little 'fling' with Harry. Thankfully Lavender had earned enough sense to know whose business belonged to whom.

"How have you been? Oh, it's been _ages,_ hasn't it? I just can't wait to catch up with you! Guess who my new boyfriend is!" Ginny prattled on. Harry's stomach twisted into knots: he had a feeling he knew who the guy was, but Hermione (who apparently had momentarily forgotten the feud she was supposed to be having with the redhead) excitedly responded: "Who!?"

Ginny giggled and leaned forward to whisper in Hermione's ear, "Oliver Wood." Harry winced, having heard the name.

At that moment, Hermione reddened in fury; she must have assumed that the relationship between Oliver and Ginny had been more of a one-night thing. But her face returned to its normal color instantly as she composed herself (though Harry knew that inwardly she was still raging in fury.).

"Oh, is he coming?" she asked, more coolly this time. Ginny seemed to notice the change in demeanor.

"Yes, he is. He should actually be here soon. He said he had a long practice today," she answered, cautiously. Harry gazed at Hermione, ready to restrain her in case she lost it. However, to his surprise, she grinned back at her.

"Wonderful! I haven't seen him in _ages-" _Harry thought she had emphasized 'ages' a little too much-"I can't wait to see him!" And, with that, there was a 'pop' right where Ginny had appeared not long before.

"Oh, hello, Olive!" Ginny squealed, and ran over to greet him. Hermione stamped on Harry's instep after he sarcastically imitated Ginny's gush over the quidditch player. Oliver strode into the room, and broke into a broad grin when he saw Harry.

"Harry! Long time no see! How are you, and why aren't you trying to get onto the Chudley Channons to make it a good team?"

"Ah, well. I found that I just didn't have the time to continue practicing. You know, Voldemort kind of put a damper on that dream," Harry joked. Oliver flinched at the sound of the evil sorcerer's name. An awkward silence commenced between the two.

"Oliver, you remember Hermione, don't you," Ginny said, trying to make conversation. Sadly, unbeknownst to her, she had just made the situation worse.

"Oh, how can I forget Hermione?" Oliver said, sensuously. However, all he managed to do was to infuriate Hermione. Barely suppressing her rage, Hermione managed a smile that resembled someone's face after getting stabbed with a rapier. Oliver was unperturbed by her reaction. "Ginny, why don't you get us all drinks?" he said in his most charming conduct.

"I'll join her. We have _so _much to catch up on," Harry said tersely, with as little anger in his voice as possible. With a last grimace from Hermione, Harry turned around, and strode to the drinks table with Ginny, who paid absolutely no attention to him whatsoever.

He popped open a bottle of beer, and lifted it towards his lips. Unable to stand the situation any longer, he slammed the bottle on the table, causing the frothy beverage to spill onto the white tablecloth beneath.

"Why did you do it, Ginny?" Harry whispered angrily. "I…well, you know, _really_ liked you… and-"

"Oh, quit taking the piss, Harry. You told me yourself that you loved me. Time and time again," she retorted, with equal rage.

"Yeah, so why did go you do that? Why did you deliberately do that to me? You tore me apart, you…you stupid whore!" Harry said, voice raised higher, tears forming in his eyes.

"I wasn't ready for it, Harry! I wasn't ready for you to have those feelings…I just wanted to have fun, really. And I mean, it wasn't as if you made _that_ any easier," she huffed.

"What do you mean by that? Are you saying-"

"You sucked! You had no idea what you were doing three quarters of the time. I was just being nice!" Harry's face was glowing with rage.

"Oh, yeah, and of course you knew! You with your two prior boyfriends, and your boyfriends on the side! You had two that I knew about! Were there anymore? Were they any good?" Harry sputtered.

"Oh, so much better!" Ginny shrieked, fists clenched so tightly, that her knuckles turned white.

"Then why were you so upset when I dumped you? Just so you could say to people, 'oh, my boyfriend's Harry Potter,' is that right? I mean, the only reason you liked me in the first place was because I was the most famous wizard in the wizarding community! You just like the attention, don't you? That's why you went to Oliver, right? Because he's famous for swatting a useless ball away from a couple of hoops?" Ginny went puce. She opened her mouth to say something, but changed her mind, and punched his nose as hard as she could. Harry cried out as he heard a sickening crunch beneath her fist, and tears welled in his eyes automatically due to the blow. Blood poured from his nose, and dribbled onto the floor.

---

As Harry and Ginny turned away, Hermione felt a pang of panic. How was she supposed to cope with this man with an uncontrollable libido without Harry to protect her? Then she remembered that she had her wand in her pocket to protect her, and made a sigh in relief.

"Before they come back, do you want to go to the bathroom," he whispered, reaching a hand towards her thigh. Before he was even a hair's width to his destination, she slapped his hand so hard, he gave a small wince in pain.

"What did you do that, for?" Oliver said angrily, losing his cool, charming attitude.

"Before we get into that, why the hell would you ever go out with me, and then cheat on me-with _Ginny_ for crying out loud, who cheated on my best friend-and then cheat on her, _and_ try to win me back simultaneously?" Hermione shrilled. Oliver smirked.

"Because I like both of you," he said, trying-and failing-to charm. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Tell the truth," she whispered, whipping out her wand, and pointing it right below his belt line. Oliver broke into a sweat, and Hermione raised her eyebrows.

"Alright, you know why? I've been going out with Ginny for some time, actually. It hasn't been just since the weekend before last. We have what you would call… an 'open relationship'-but our hearts lie with one another, right? So I seriously get to do whomever I please! You know that first time Harry walked in on Ginny cheating? It was me!" Oliver snickered to himself. "Apparently, I satisfied her a lot more."

"Well, that still doesn't explain why you ever wanted me," Hermione drilled on.

"Typically, I don't go for people like you. …I mean, you're nice, and everything. But…I don't know, you're just too…too-"

There was a shriek from the other side of the room, and the two snapped their heads in the direction of the drink table. Silence filled the room as Harry's knees buckled, hands over his face.

"HOW DARE YOU!" Ginny cried, landing another blow on the side of his face, sending him onto his side. But before she could land a third one, Hermione had whipped her wand out, and sent a jet of red light, which hit Ginny square on her back. Ginny toppled over. Hermione dashed to Harry's side, and pulled his hands away from his face. She gasped in horror at the squashed and bloody nose shaped like two knuckles sitting on top of Harry's face.

"Harry! What happened?! Are you okay!?"

"Well, aside from the fact that I have a crushed nose, and the reason why Ginny cheated on me was because I didn't 'satisfy' her, I'm doing pretty well, thanks," Harry said in a nasal, sarcastic voice. Hermione gaped at him, but then she remembered the conversation she'd had with Oliver just seconds before. She bit her lip anxiously.

"Harry…I think I should tell you this…Ginny cheated on you with Oliver," Harry's eyes bulged out of his sockets, and before Hermione could stop him, he had flung himself upon Oliver, where a wrestling match ensued. The guests of the party formed a circle around the fighting pair. Surprisingly, Harry seemed to be winning, thanks to his auror training which also emphasized hand to hand combat (in case one's wand was lost). Hermione felt a tap on her shoulder, and she turned around to find Ron gazing, terrified, upon his best friend's exorbitant rage.

"Why the hell would Lavender invite Oliver? She doesn't even know him that well, and wouldn't she know that Harry would try to defend your honor? I mean, that's the only reason why I can think of Harry kicking the shit out of him…" Ron said in awe.

"Well…it's partially my fault…I encouraged it, because I thought that they could make up with one another. And, who knew that she would bring her 'new' boyfriend, Oliver?" When Ron stared blankly at her, Hermione sighed, and explained the reasoning behind the fight before them.

"Oh…damn. No wonder Harry's so pissed…and you say Ginny said Harry didn't satisfy her? No wonder _that_ relationship worked out…" he finished, almost sadly. Hermione knew he had always wanted them to get together in the end. Of course, knowing Ginny, if her 'needs' weren't satisfied, she wouldn't have it… but Hermione couldn't help but find that bizarre. Just two days before, Harry had _certainly _satisfied—and then she was struck with an idea.

"Harry!" She cried above the ruckus. "Harry! You satisfied me!" She flushed red with embarrassment as gasps sounded from the entire group. Harry froze, holding his fist in midair, with Oliver pinned beneath him, beaten black, blue, and red. Harry turned his head slowly in Hermione's direction. A heavy silence settled over the room.

The only thing that broke the silence was Draco, who lazily pointed out how obvious to him the relationship between his two least favorite people had always been. Seamus irritably elbowed his boyfriend in the ribs to quiet him.

"Y-you're serious?" Harry croaked. Hermione nodded meekly. Harry stood up, stepping on Oliver's face in the process, as he embraced her, squeezing her tightly. He nestled his face in her bushy hair. Hermione returned to hug eagerly, giving the most bone crushing hug she had ever given. Oliver stared dumbly at the pair for a moment, but a smirk cast over his bruised and swollen face.

"You know what, Hermione?" He said loudly, forcing Harry and Hermione to break apart. "I was just trying to protect your feelings." He stood up, wobbling, and clutched onto a nearby table for support. "The real reason that I tried to get you was because I made a bet with my friends, that I couldn't get into the pants of a know-it-all bookworm—with no life, I might add—and they were right. So it's a hundred galleons down the drain. So what? I make more than that in one game, and this just proves to me how I'm beyond all of you peop-" before he could say another word, there was an enormous roar, and a flash of light. Before anyone could find out where the source of light came from, Oliver was dangling upside-down, pants hanging off his right leg, revealing leopard-print briefs, with a picture of the large cat on the bum. Hermione looked around, and found Ron standing next to her, shaking his wand up and down as Oliver bobbed up and down, shrieking with rage.

"How _dare _you, you stupid arse! Who are you saying that to?" Ron was absolutely livid.

"What, you want her, too?" Oliver cried.

"Oi! Just because she's not my girlfriend doesn't mean that she's not my friend!"

"Here Ronald. Let me help you," Luna said, with a hint of anger in her voice, which surprised many of those around her. With that, she whipped out her wand, and Oliver's provocative boxers were ripped apart. There were shrieks of glee from across the room.

"He should make you proud, Ronald," Luna finished satisfactorily. Ron put an arm around her shoulder, kissing her forehead.

"Good girl," he said happily.

"I could've told anyone that," Draco drawled. There were gasps from around the room. Seamus went livid. "Oh, calm down, Seamus. That was six months before I asked you out. He can tell you. He really has nothing to hide, right now. Of course, it's so small, you'd think he was hiding it somewhere," he finished. Seamus relaxed.

"Whoa, now aren't you glad I separated you two on your first date?" Harry laughed. Hermione reddened.

"I'd take this opportunity to go now, before Ginny wakes up, and all hell brakes loose," Ron said. "And…Harry, shouldn't you do something about your nose?" Harry didn't realize until that moment just how dizzy he was getting from loss of blood. He tipped over backwards and into Hermione's arms. And then everything went black.

---

Well, he was in Hermione's room, that much was for certain. The strong scent of Hermione's favorite perfume, a strong clean scent, pervaded his nostrils. This was certainly a feat, considering how much pain his nose was in at the moment. He fumbled for his glasses, and smacked his hand on the bedside table where they lay waiting. He shoved them on his face and sat up, squinting around for some sort of timepiece. The clock on the bedside table read 9:30. He knew they'd left the party at 7:00, because just before he had collapsed he'd caught sight of the elaborate clock on Lavender's mantel.

He gazed about the room, pondering where Hermione was, and concluded she was not in the room. He rolled off the bed and stumbled into the living room area. He found Hermione curled up on the couch, wearing the same bathrobe she'd worn while getting ready for the party. She was midway through an enormous book. Harry wandered over to her and plopped down beside her on the cushy couch. With one glance at Harry's face, Hermione tossed the book aside and commenced carefully examining his swollen face.

"Ginny's got a really good punch, hasn't she?" Harry croaked after a few minutes of examination.

"Yes, I guess so. You lost an enormous amount of blood, you know. I'm surprised you lasted as long as you did. If you hadn't've fought Oliver, you wouldn't've lost nearly as much. It took me a while to figure out which spell to use to totally repair your nose, though. It's harder to fix a crush than a break. I was able to stop the bleeding pretty quickly, although, I have to make you a special potion to help you to gain all your blood back. It'll take a while to stew, and once you take it, it takes a while for your blood to be fully restored." Hermione scolded. Harry groaned in irritation, but Hermione ignored him, continuing on.

"It's similar to skelly-grow, so I took the liberty of contacting your work and explaining to them what happened. They understood fully, and agreed they couldn't have someone who would be half-functioning all day. I also contacted Lavender and my office to let them know I wouldn't be able to make it tomorrow," she said this all so quickly it made Harry's aching head spin.

"That's great, but why are you skipping tomorrow?"

"Well, I can't let you stay by yourself all day in this state!" she said bossily. Silence ensued between the two of them as Hermione finished examining him.

"I think your nose is completely normal again," she said satisfactorily. There was an awkward pause. Harry looked up anxiously.

"Hey…I'm sorry, 'Mione."

"Why?"

"Well…you have to skip work, and your evening is ruined…all because of me!"

"Oh, Harry, don't be silly! After an evening like this, I don't think even I could go to work, even if your nose hadn't been broken. I wouldn't be able to even face Lavender! Besides, my evening isn't ruined!" She said as she smiled and placed a hand on Harry's shoulder. Harry grinned. "But…I'm really sorry about Ginny and everything," she continued, although she didn't sound sorry at all.

"Don't worry…this evening has finally gotten me to forget about her."

"Will you two ever be friends again?"

"Yeah, probably. But maybe time will just have to pass. But I'm not going to worry about her for now. Because, even if she comes crawling back, begging, I won't take her back --I've got something better," he added, embarrassedly. Hermione rolled her eyes and smiled.

"Nice one-liner, Romeo. But, thanks," she said, reddening.

"Yeah," he said quietly. Harry's heart was thumping so loudly, he swore Hermione would be able to hear it. Hermione stood up and faced him.

"Well…what do you think?" she said shakily, taking her bathrobe off. Harry's eyes bulged at Hermione in Ginny's birthday present.

"Well…wow…this…has…definitely gotten me to forgive Ginny," Harry stuttered. Hermione grinned sultrily, pulling Harry up from the couch.

"Are you sure you're okay…I mean…ready? Because your nose…" Hermione said, halting in her steps. Harry grinned, and picked her up.

"We'll see. But, all I know is that this time we're going to do this properly. Not on the entranceway floor for all to see," he said, carrying her to their bedroom, Hermione's laugh echoing through the room as Harry slammed the door shut with his foot.


	7. Chapter 7

**Chapter VII: Feelings Determined**

Harry blinked his eyes through bright sunlight falling upon his face. He rolled over, yanked out the pillow next to him to shield his face, and tried to fall back asleep again. A drowsy groan issued from next to him.

"Tha's my pillow," Hermione mumbled sleepily. "Give it back."

"No," Harry mumbled into the pillow. "Here. Have my blankets. We'll trade."

"No, I don't care about that," Hermione murmured, rolling over to face Harry. "I want my pillow."

"Yeah, but I'm shielding you from the window. I need something to hide my face from the sun, too," Harry retorted.

"Fine. Give me your blankets. We'll have to get another pillow today, or something." Harry grunted, and cast off his covers to Hermione. He felt her roll over to the opposite direction. Five minutes later, he began to shiver from the chill of the poorly insolated apartment, and yanked his covers back.

"Harry! What are you doing?" Hermione groaned.

"I'm freezing!"

"Well, you should've thought that through when you gave them to me in the first place! Give me my pillow!"

"Fine!" Harry sat up, threw his borrowed pillow at the shut bedroom door, and collapsed back down upon his own pillow. He grinned as he heard Hermione huff, stomp to the door, grab the pillow, and plop back down on the bed. She rolled over to face him again.

"Bastard. Shut the blinds if you don't want any sunlight to stream through," Hermione grumbled. Harry shrugged and stumbled sleepily to the bedroom window. However, before he closed the blinds, he looked out the window to find a little girl staring at him, eyes bulged. Harry frowned, looked down, and realized exactly why she seemed so frightened. He reddened, quickly shut the blinds, and jumped back into bed. He reached his arm around Hermione.

"Isn't that better, Harry? Wouldn't it've been so much easier if you'd done that in the first place?"

"I was waiting for you to ask me to do it-" Hermione punched his arm "-but I think we left the blinds up all night," Harry finished.

"Obviously," Hermione snapped.

"Yeah, so that means that someone probably saw us…you know," he finished. Hermione squeaked, and Harry felt her stiffen in his arms. "Who lives in the apartment across from your window?"

"A really young couple, not much older than we are," she piped. Harry frowned.

"Then why was there a little girl staring at me?"

"Oh God…I don't know. I never really talked to them. Probably their niece? I don't know. I'm so tired of worrying over things like that. She'll live," Hermione finished with a yawn. Harry raised his eyebrows.

"What's gotten into you Hermione? Have I poisoned you?"

"Well, probably. But I'm not dead yet, am I? And since you arrived my life has been a lot more embarrassing that that."

"Oh? What's happened that made your life _so_ embarrassing?"

"Well…like how my cousin walked in on us snogging. Or like when we walked into Draco at Gucci. Or like how I got the drunkest I've ever been at my cousin's wedding in front of my entire family. Or like two days ago, I awoke to have my ex and his wife staring at me like I was some sort of animal…need I go on?"

"Oh, yeah, but you _were_ an animal that time, 'Mione," Harry said sultrily. Hermione grinned and blushed. "But it's so nice to have you sober this morning, without a hangover."

"Why, so we can talk openly about what happened last night?" Hermione said dramatically.

"No, because now I don't have to make you a hangover potion." Hermione gasped, and leapt out of bed. Harry sat up disconcertedly. "What…" Harry started, and sat back against the bed dizzily. He had forgotten about how much blood he'd lost. Hermione threw on some clothes, and left the room. She bustled back into the room a few moments later with a mini-cauldron which contained a deep-blue substance. It sizzled angrily, and had a very strong odor of iron. Harry grimaced.

"Do I really have to drink that? It looks rancid! And why couldn't I've taken it last night, you know, before…"

"Remember how I said last night that the potion to make your blood come back had to simmer? Well, I planned it out carefully so it would take about all last night to do so. I was hoping that you would wake up, and…you know…besides, it would've ruined the mood…" she blushed. "Anyway, here. You're looking sort of pale, anyway. You have to drink the entire thing." Harry picked up the cauldron, which was surprisingly cool ("I put a special charm to prevent the metal from scalding anyone," he imagined Hermione saying to him in his head), and inhaled the angry looking substance. He gagged. Skelygrow's taste seemed like butterbeer compared to what he was swishing around in his mouth at the moment. It was ice cold, and tasted like a mixture of blood and something else he feared to name.

"You have to finish it, Harry! Or else it won't work!" With that, she took the cauldron, and his head, and force fed the potion into his mouth. Once finished (after much spurting on Harry's part), she took the cauldron away, and was able to see Harry's, now green, face. "Was it so bad, Harry?"

"No, worse. Do you have a sick bag?" Harry groaned.

"You can't throw it up, Harry! That would completely ruin the point of giving it to you in the first place! Your stomach should subside soon, anyway. Do you want water, or something to wash the flavor out of your mouth?" Harry shook his head. "Well…I think it'd help. I'll be right back." With that, she stood up, and walked over to her kitchenette.

Not feeling like making another potion to cure nausea, she riffled through her cabinet in search for other means of curing his unsettled stomach. The last time she had made an anti-nausea potion was over a year ago on her previous birthday. She, Ginny, Luna, the Patils, and several other girls that she was friends with at the time rushed Lavender home when she turned three shades of green darker than the color on Harry's face after she won the firewhisky drinking contest. She used the first anti-nausea potion (she checked later, and it was indeed the only) she saw, she was in such a hurry. Sadly, not only did it take her forty-five minutes to make, but judging by the fact that Lavender vomited anyway after drinking it, it didn't work. At the back of the cabinet, she found a bottle of Pepto-Bismol. She then poured a glass of water, and returned to the bedroom.

Harry was slightly less green, but had appeared to have broken a sweat. She sat down at the foot of the bed, measured out the appropriated amount, and gave it to Harry. He gulped it down, with a grimace on his face.

"Ugh! This is disgusting! Yet it looks so good in the bottle!" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"It couldn't've been worse than what I'd just given you. You just want the attention. Here-" she handed him the water-"I swear I didn't put laxatives or anything in it," Hermione finished impatiently.

"No, it's fine," Harry said, and sat back against the headboard. "Your bed is comfortable; did you get it for…you know, reasons such as these?"

"Em…no. I got it because, well…it's comfortable. It's a muggle mattress…I got it at a muggle store," she finished. There was silence until Hermione realized something.

"Where's your furniture? I know you were evicted, but you still had a right to your furniture, didn't you?"

"Oh, I used the same charm on my suitcase as you did on that little purse two years ago. Only, I have separate compartments for both clothes and all the other stuff I have."

"You've improved a lot on your charm abilities, Harry!"

"Yeah, well…auror training, you know?" He shook his fist in triumph. She laid down on the bed next to him. Hermione glanced at her clock. It was only 9:00 am. She didn't have much to do all day except make sure that the potion worked on Harry. Now that she thought about it, this was really the first time in a long time that she was sitting down, not doing anything whatsoever (usually she was at least reading an enormous book). She was, indeed, very content on simply sitting there with Harry. She sighed.

"Thanks for last night at Lavender's. You sort of saved the night, you know. Or, for me at least," Harry said quietly.

"Oh, it wasn't just me. I mean, Ron, and Luna. They helped. And you! You did to Oliver what he deserved to get for a very long time," she returned.

"Yeah…but, I'm glad that what he did with Ginny happened," he said reddening.

"I know…you told me already. But I mean, I'm glad it happened, too." They looked at each other.

"Em…that first time that we…you know…was it just my drunkenness that worked? Or…" she trailed off, too embarrassed to finish.

"No," Harry smiled with eyebrows raised.

"Your loss of blood didn't…em…matter at all. And we can put the blanket and pillow from the couch away. Because, well-" her heart thumped loudly as Harry reached up to hold her face. "-because," she continued trying to sound bossy like she normally was, "because I think it's pretty obvious you are sleeping in here from now on." She finally finished. There was a bang near where her threshold was.

"Oh…damn," she muttered, starting to get up.

"No…ignore it," Harry whispered. "Bet it's only Ron and Luna." With that he pulled her face to his as loud voices were issuing from outside her bedroom door.

---

"Ron, I really don't think we should be here. They'll probably want their privacy," Neville whispered.

"Oh, bullocks. For all we know, they could be out somewhere. Besides, we came here on a whim just two days ago!"

"Yes, Ronald, but I'm sure that you remember that we walked in on them the morning after they had sex, so…we might be intruding on them just a little bit," Luna said dreamily (as per usual).

"Exactly! Look-" he pointed at the spot where they had been the previous Sunday morning-"they're not there, so it shouldn't matter! Our cover up (and partial reason) is that we're just making sure that he's alright. Besides, you saw Harry last night! All the blood on his shirt is the blood that would've gone down to-" Luna slapped his arm. Neville stood stock still.

"Nev-" Ron started.

"Shush!" Neville interrupted. "Listen." Silence filled the room. And sure enough, they could here voices from inside Hermione's room. Without even signaling each other, they simultaneously crept towards the door, and pressed their ears against the door. The voices had stopped. They eyed each other worriedly. With a nod from Neville and Luna, Ron turned the knob, and quietly opened the door.

What the three had been worried about was, indeed, a false alarm. The three gaped at Harry and Hermione snogging, apparently totally unaware that there were three young adult, former schoolmates standing in the bedroom doorway. Ron sniggered. Neville slapped a hand to his forehead, while Luna, who had gotten bored, was humming a Weird Sisters tune and staring off into space.

"What's so funny, Harry?" Hermione said through kisses. Ron, whose face was as red as Harry's face had been green, could no longer contain himself. He collapsed upon the floor, and let out a howl of laughter. Harry and Hermione abruptly pulled apart, and snapped their heads towards Ron.

"Em…sorry…"Neville said awkwardly. "We, er…just wanted to make sure you two were okay," he finished hopelessly at gazing upon Ron, who had tears running down his face from laughter.

"You haven't changed at all, Ronald," Hermione said harshly, attempting to act as though nothing had happened. Ron stared at her blankly, and then recommenced at howling even harder. Hermione rolled her eyes, stood up, and walked out of the bedroom.

"Have you all eaten anything, yet?" Hermione called over her shoulder. At that Ron stopped. Hermione rolled her eyes.

"Not since before my early morning practice," said Ron hopefully.

"Oh, and Neville, were you able to get off work?" Hermione said while placing ten eggs in a pot to boil.

"Well, yeah. Harry's my partner, and since he couldn't make it today-for obvious reasons-our boss told me to go make sure he's okay. I would've done that anyway, but it's nice to have been given permission to do so," he finished.

"Well that's good. I'm waiting for the water to boil. You all like eggs, don't you?" They nodded their heads. "They have protein." Ron, Luna, and Neville stared at her blankly. Hermione shook her head. "Never mind. Where's Harry?"

"Dunno. I'll check," said Ron. He stuck his head in their bedroom door. "Oi, Harry! Your girlfriend wants to know what you're doing," Ron sniggered. Hermione reddened as Harry stepped out of the bedroom, fully clothed. "Never mind. He was making himself descent for us all," Ron finished with another chortle.

"So…" said Neville, unable to hide his discomfort. An awkward silence ensued between the five until the water had boiled, and the eggs had cooked.

"Em…who wants breakfast?" She said as she dumped the eggs onto five plates. Ron ignored her.

"So, second time we walked in on the two of you, eh?" Ron said elbowing Harry in the ribs.

"Ronald, I really believe you should leave them alone," said Luna. "_But,_ I still want to hear the gossip."

"Don't you think we should tell them what happened after they left?" Neville said quickly.

"Oh, that's a grand idea," Luna said. "Well, in the left corner of her apartment, a small mouse scurried about-" Ron didn't let her finish.

"Loony, I think I'll tell the story, alright? Fantastic start, but I'm sure that Harry and Hermione only want to hear the juicy bits."

"Oh, alright. You tell stories much better than I do, anyway,"

"Everyone does," Harry murmured so only Hermione could hear. She stamped on his foot.

"Anyway," Ron continued, "as soon as you passed out, Harry, Hermione made a hasty getaway. Meaning, she said goodbye and thank-you (though I don't know why) to Lavender and everyone else, and aparated out of her apartment. Once you two were gone, I let the spell on Oliver go. He, of course, aparated without a word. Neville, Luna, and I did the same, and took Ginny back to our apartment. So we don't know when everyone else from the party left. We didn't leave much longer after you did. But when we got to the apartment, we waited until Ginny had come to. Took a while, because Hermione's stunning charm is so good. Anyway, once she had come to, she saw all of us, and broke down. I guess she saw how angry we were. All I could get out of what she said was about a hundred 'I'm sorrys,' and fifty 'I'll changes.' So that's good."

"Right, he started well, but everything kind of failed after that," Neville said rolling his eyes. "So, Ginny was really sorry for what she had done. She came to the conclusion that she needed to change. We convinced her to take back wizardry again. So she decided to go back to school. Not Hogwarts, of course. But a school that could quickly allow her to review all that she'd learned. From there, she'll decide what she'll want to be. Don't really know what made her realize all that all of a sudden."

"Will she break up with Oliver?" Hermione asked, disgust etched in her voice.

"I think she seriously thought about that. Still, I dunno."

"Did she have anything to say about crushing my nose?" Harry stated drily.

"Eh…well, she apologized for that. And…she hoped you'd be okay. But I think she was still really angry about whatever went on between you two."

"Okay, so she is reversing her life-again-but she still hasn't anything to say bout me?" Harry continued angrily.

"Got me," Neville said, shrugging his shoulders. Harry shook his head.

"Where's she now?" he asked.

"She went to the burrow," Ron continued. "She's going to lay low there for a while. She should. Anyway…enough about this. You're all filled in. Now-fill _us_ in."

"My goodness, did I marry a woman?" Luna said, almost sarcastically. Ron rolled his eyes.

"Well," Hermione said, choosing her words very carefully. "We aparated here, and then I laid him down in my room. I stopped the bleeding, of course. But I couldn't figure out how to fix a crushed nose. So I had to rifle through my magical-medical books. Finally I found one, and fixed his nose. Then, after some time, I found a potion that could get all his blood back, and get him up to strength in about a day. The potion was easy enough to make, but it had to simmer overnight. So, I just let it be. I read. The end," she finished. She dared not go into the rest of the night. Ron's jaw dropped.

"That's it? Are you serious? Then…what…you two were snogging-_on the bed_!"

"Yes, but I had my clothes on," Hermione said quickly.

"Hah! You know what really tells me you weren't telling me everything? One, the other side of the bed was unmade. Two," he marched into the bedroom, and returned moments later with Ginny's birthday present dangling between his thumb and index finger. "I saw _this_ on the floor when I was laughing." He raised his eyebrows as Hermione went puce.

"A-_HA!_ I _knew_ it! So please, continue," Ron said, mocking Hermione's prissy voice.

"Oh, that's not fair! I mean, it's only _one_ person who wants to hear the rest of the story. And…well, 20 percent of the group can't make me tell everything.

"Hermione, I am a woman with a brain crammed full of random facts. It is true. One of them that I know is that in the American muggle Constitution it is, indeed, stated in Article I, section 5 that if 20 percent of congress wishes to make what they discussed public, then it is obligatory that it does so. I do believe that Ron represents 1 out of five of the group. He is therefore 20 percent. Oh, and with myself, and Neville," she glanced over at him, who nodded his head, "that makes 60 percent. Not only is that beyond 20 percent, but it is the majority of the vote. Although, if Harry were to say yes, then it would be a 2/3. In other words, we could make a law that says: 'Hermione has to tell her friends when she has sex every time she does.' But I don't really want to make a law like that, because it would grow old very quickly, and then we'd have to make an amendment. However, if-" Ron clamped a hand over her mouth.

"Yes, we understand, dear. So…Hermione, the woman has spoken. Please, go on and tell us your tale."

"I'll tell it," Harry piped.

"No, it's much more fun for Hermione to do it." Hermione moaned.

"Oh, alright. So while I was reading, Harry came and sat down next to me. I made sure his nose was okay, gave him the low-down about his health. Then we went and did it. Okay? Satisfied?"

"Yeah. Was it good?" Ron pried.

"Really, Ron-this is getting really personal-" Hermione sputtered.

"20 percent, Hermione. 20 percent!"

"Oh…well, there's going to be an usurpation, now. I happen to know a lot, too. The Declaration of Independence says that when a group of people feel that the government has become too corrupt, then that group has a right to overthrow it. I represent 20 percent-that's a group of people. That proves how much I read. Now, go! We have dinner plans tonight, so we'll see you then!" Hermione said, shoving him to her front door.

"Oh, right! Well fine. We'll see you two at the Knight's Templar Bar-7:30?"

"Yeah. Neville, you should come, too," Harry offered.

"Sure, I'd be happy to."

"We need to stay in touch more. Shall we make this a more weekly thing?"

"We'll see how tonight goes," Hermione said hurriedly. "But there's an usurpation going on right now, so there. Goodbye you three. See you at 7:30. It'll be a weekly thing if you all don't pry about our-" Ron gasped.

"You said _our_!" Hermione rolled her eyes.

"_Yes_, I did. I'm glad you can understand English! Now goodbye!" With that, she gave him a final shove, and he stumbled out into the hall. Luna and Neville followed.

"Glad you're feeling better Harry! I'll see you tonight," Neville said, grinning.

"Yeah, sure," Harry said, returning the smile.

"Don't let the gnargles make you late," Luna called.

"_You said __**our**__!!!" _Ron shouted as Hermione slammed the door shut. Hermione uttered a sigh of irritation as she reached her arms around Harry, nestling her forehead into his shoulder.

"He's so exhausting, Harry!"

"Yeah, well that's why you broke up with him. By the way, you said 'our,' but you never got to finish your sentence," Harry said, pulling her to the couch, and sitting down.

"Oh, yes. I was going to say 'sex life,' but I'm glad he never let me finish."

"Ah. So this is definitely going to be a regular thing now, isn't it?" Harry said, laying down across the couch, head resting on its arm. Hermione laid down with him, head resting on his chest.

"Well, I think we decided last weekend that we were officially dating. So, yeah. I guess so." A silence ensued between the two. However, for the first time in what felt like ages, it was not at all awkward. Hermione's eyes began to close in sleep as she heard Harry's voice.

"'Mione?"

"Yes, Harry?"

"I think I…"

"What? You what?"

"I, eh…you know…"

"Harry, I'm never going to know what you want to say until you say it," Hermione said lethargically.

"Well…I think I love you," Harry said simply. Hermione smiled, and gripped his T-shirt.

"I know, Harry. I do, too. Could we just…stay like this for a while?"

"Sure," said Harry. He rolled onto his side, grabbed the folded up blanket he had been using up till the previous night as covers on the back of the couch, and pulled it on top of him and Hermione. He would remain like this with Hermione until way past 7:30 if he could.


End file.
